


The French Connection

by blueboxesandtrafficcones



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bickering, Disney World & Disneyland, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon (sort of), Paris (City), Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, World Travel, recent breakups, sharing the honeymoon suite, vague mention of pedophilia (Joe) (no detail)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-01-13 15:17:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21154649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxesandtrafficcones/pseuds/blueboxesandtrafficcones
Summary: Ellie Miller is left to go on her honeymoon alone after a devastating secret about her fiance comes to light - halfway through the wedding ceremony.  Sitting in St Pancras International in London waiting for her train, she runs into none other than her uni rival/best friend Alec Hardy, on the run from his own recent heartbreak.They decide to make use of Ellie’s pre-paid trip, rekindling their friendship and escaping real life; yet, it turns out their years at uni are the hardest to outrun.





	1. Day 1, Part 1 (Sunday)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! This is a new multi-chapter fic that will be posting on Wednesdays and Sundays between now and Nov 27th.
> 
> Based on the following prompt from timepetalscollective on Tumblr:
> 
> After being left in the altar, person A asks person B, aka their best friend, to come with them to their already paid honeymoon and.... the rest is history ;)

Ellie Miller sat slumped over a table for two, picking at her unappetizing, healthy breakfast wrap as she waited for her train. She still had twenty minutes before she could begin boarding, and despite having already made the effort of getting into London, wasn’t even certain she would be _on_ the train when it pulled out.

In fact, she might be quite happy to remain at this table forever. No one who knew her, no one to bother her, offer advice or sympathy, scold or belittle her. She might, if she was lucky, never have to hear her own name ever again.

“Millah?”

_Spoke too soon_, she thought bitterly, eyes slipping closed and turning her head away from the direction of the voice, hoping whoever it was would believe they were mistaken and continue on.

“The hell are you doing?”

Her eyes snapped open as her table jostled, and sure enough, it was exactly who she’d suspected (feared) now in front of her.

“Fuck off.”

While most men would cower at her vitriolic tone and icy stare, Alec Hardy had been her rival for top of the class at uni, and was therefore all but immune to her intimidation tactics. _Being a Scot, he probably considers that a friendly greeting_, she rolled her eyes.

He’d helped himself to the chair opposite her, folding his arms on the table and leaning towards her, that curious look in his eye that said he thought he was on the scent of something. “Well aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine? I thought _I_ was the grumpy one. I distinctly remember you ordering it to be so.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and despite her irritation, hers quirked in response.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Running away. You?”

“The same.”

Staring down at her sad breakfast, she could no longer stomach the thought, and pushed it across the table at her one-time schoolmate. “Here, it’s rabbit food, you’ll like it.”

Hardy made a face, poking at it, before shrugging. “Thanks.” He took a bite, grimacing as he chewed, and gingerly set it back down. “You know attempted murder’s a crime, don’t you?”

“You should arrest the bloke in the shop then, ‘cause he promised me it was good.”

That got her a soft laugh, and they sat in silence for a minute, not quite meeting each other’s eye.

“So, how long has it been?” he eventually asked, brow furrowing as if trying to do the math himself and getting nowhere.

“Eight years?” She hadn’t seen him since graduation – or more specifically, the morning _after_ graduation. Involuntarily, her cheeks flushed at the memory.

Hardy froze for just a moment. “Right,” he said, perfectly neutrally, the moment growing more awkward by the second as they both tried to pretend everything was normal.

“What’re you running from?” Ellie asked, just to change the subject, before wincing.

“My girlfriend was having an affair with one of our coworkers, I decked him in the middle of the bullpen, and am now on forced vacation.” He rolled his eyes, slumping down in his chair. “I’d been working thirty-six hours straight so they let me off with just a warning, but strongly suggested I take the next two weeks off.”

Ellie hummed in sympathy, cuddling her coffee cup to her chest to resist the temptation to reach out to him. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Me too.” He paused a moment, before glancing up with a wry grin. “It was a shitty punch, didn’t even break his nose.”

She laughed, some of her tension easing, though it reappeared instantly when he continued speaking.

“What about you? What’re you running from?”

“_Eurostar, London to Paris, now boarding. This is the first call for Eurostar to Paris._”

That was her, but she ignored the announcement to confess, “Yesterday was my wedding day. Halfway through the ceremony, my husband-to-be was arrested on child porn charges.”

“Shit.” Hardy’s eyes went wide, and let off a low whistle. “_Shit_. Sorry, yeah, that’s worse.”

“It’s not a competition,” she tried to laugh, lower lip wobbling. _Don’t cry. Whatever you do, do _not_ cry in front of Hardy_. “But, thanks. Anyway, I’m off on our honeymoon alone. Maybe. Where are you headed, though? Where’re you spending your time off?”

He shook his head, shrugging. “I was just going to buy the cheapest ticket and see where it took me. Anywhere but here, you know?”

“You could come with me,” slipped out before she even thought about it, cheeks flaming as she realized what she’d said.

“What?”

“I have two tickets,” she explained, ignoring the little voice saying _what’re you doing? Wouldn’t you rather be alone?_ “Everything’s paid for, and I promise not to ask about your ex if you don’t ask about mine.”

_“Second call for Eurostar to Paris. All passengers please make their way to Track Two for boarding.”_

Hardy stared at her, a slightly incredulous expression on his face, but after a moment, he shrugged. “What the hell. If you’re sure, why not?”

“Excellent!” Ellie chirped, jumping up and grabbing her luggage. “Shall we go, then?”

* * *

As soon as they found seats and settled in, Ellie fell asleep against the window, leaving Alec alone with his thoughts as he watched the countryside fly past.

_Eight years_, he wondered, slightly amazed. _Has it really been that long?_ In some ways, it did feel that way – it felt like ages since she’d been a part of his life, and it had been jarring, going from seeing her near every day to never again. They’d had a complicated friendship while in school to say the least, one that barely even qualified for the word ‘friendship’, but it was the best description he had.

In other ways, it felt like only yesterday they were antagonizing each other, fighting for top of the class and trying to out-perform each other. In the moment, he hadn’t realized how much fun it was to have her for a sparring partner. For as much as they would argue, it never felt like _fighting_.

Focusing on her reflection in the window, he considered the utter coincidence that they had both ended up at St Pancras’ on the same morning wanting to run away from their relationship problems. He wouldn’t go so far as to say it was fate, given he didn’t really believe in the concept, but he also didn’t believe in coincidences after so long as a detective, and yet running into her had to be one.

_If nothing else, this will be a memorable trip._

* * *

Doubts plagued Ellie as soon as the train began to move, and she quickly feigned sleep to avoid any conversation.

Apparently she feigned a bit too well, because the next thing she knew Hardy was gently shaking her shoulder.

“We’re here,” he said quietly, and she sat up, yawning and brushing the hair from her face, horrified to find a bit of crusted drool on the side of her mouth, which she tried to frantically swipe away as they shuffled off the train into Paris’ famed _Gare du Nord_ dragging their luggage behind them.

“Now what?” Hardy asked when they came to a stop in a relatively quiet, out of the way corner, and Ellie let go of her suitcase to dig through her purse for the folder she’d made with all the arrangements.

Yawning again, she re-committed the hotel address to memory before safely storing the documents. “Taxi to the hotel.” She reached for her suitcase again, only to find his hand already there.

“I got this,” he shook his head, “you just lead the way.”

Feeling disoriented for so many reasons that had nothing to do with the foreign country or language, she led him through the train station and out onto the street, joining the queue for a taxi. Thankfully it moved quickly, and soon enough, they were settled in a cab and winding their way through Paris.

“Look at this,” she murmured, staring out the window at the architecture flying by. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” They didn’t pass any famous sites on the way, but Ellie wasn’t bothered; she’d be seeing them soon enough.

_On the plus side, I’ll actually get to accomplish my itinerary instead of staying in bed all day_, she thought wryly, focusing on Hardy’s reflection in the glass. He was looking out the other window, which was probably for the best. She was still more than a bit stunned at his presence, but after the chaos of the previous twenty-four hours, it was low on the ‘shock’ factor. _And he’s certainly not going to ask me about Joe_.

The thought of her former fiancé hurt, but she couldn’t quite muster the energy to cry – she’d spent the entire night doing that, curled up alone in her bed, sobbing _why?_ over and over.

She’d hadn’t gotten an answer.

The driver cleared his throat, and she realized they had arrived at their hotel. Situated on the north side of the Seine directly across from the _Île de la Cité_, it offered an amazing view of the city, and was conveniently located for walking to all the top sights.

“_Merci_,” Ellie said, but before she could pull out her money, a few notes crossed in front of her nose, and she turned to find Hardy with his arm outstretched.

“I got it,” he shrugged, gesturing his head for her to climb out. He followed quickly, unloading their suitcases from the back, and with a final check, they sent the cab off and headed into the hotel. Again, he grabbed her suitcase before she could, sending her ahead.

_I don’t remember him being such a gentleman_, she thought, before pasting on a bright smile and checking them in with her admittedly rusty French.

Within moments she was handed two plastic room keys with a cheery _Felicitations!_, and with a nod, she led him back towards the lifts.

They rode in silence, smiling awkwardly at each other, but thankfully it was a short trip and they quickly spilled out into the hallway. It wasn’t until she opened the door that Ellie remembered she had booked the premiere honeymoon package.

“Shit,” she muttered, holding open the door as she stared inside, Hardy looking over her shoulder. It was a romantic’s dream, but at the moment, the vision just made Ellie want to throw up. “Oh, _fuck_.”

It was a fairly decent sized room for Paris, a small bathroom immediately on the right before opening up into the main area. A desk and chair sat under the window, offering a view of Paris and in the distance, the towers of _Notre-Dame_ rose above the rooftops.

The main feature, of course, given that it was the honeymoon suite, was the bed.

“Am I losing my mind,” Hardy asked from behind her, “or is that bed really heart-shaped?”

It was, with a delicate canopy to boot. Loose rose petals covered scarlet sheets, while battery-operated white candles were arranged on every flat surface, giving the room a romantic glow despite the lack of real flame. A bottle of champagne sat nestled in an ice bucket next to the desk, two flutes ready nearby.

“Uh huh,” she said faintly, finally moving forward enough to enter the room and letting him in behind her, neither paying any mind to the door slamming shut behind them.

He coughed, shifting his weight. “This is cozy.”

“This was a terrible idea.” Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes, and she had to viciously bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “This whole thing. I never should’ve come – what was I thinking? Oh, fuck.”

“Hey, Miller, it’s okay,” Hardy fumbled, patting her back, only pushing her closer to tears.

“Just give me a minute,” she sniffled, turning into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her before letting her emotions go.

* * *

Left alone in the entryway, Alec looked around the room with a frown. Doing his best to ignore the sobbing from the bathroom he stepped further into the main area, crossing his arms as he took it in.

Deciding to try damage control, he cleaned up the rose petals and shut off the candles, doing his best to remove the more romantic overtones. Not that he could do anything about the shape of the bed.

Glancing towards the bathroom door he saw no indication she would soon be emerging and investigated the room a little, pulling open drawers and closet doors to see what they were working with.

No evidence of a sleep sofa meant they would have to share the bed, and he grimaced at the thought. Not that he didn’t think they could do so without incident, but more because he feared it would absolutely send her over the edge.

Eyeing the champagne, he decided to open it – it came with the room, and maybe a little alcohol would ease the tension.

_Not too much_, the little voice in the back of his mind warned as he popped open the bottle, _the last thing either of us needs is a repeat of graduation night_.

He kindly told the voice to get stuffed. Just as he finished pouring the second glass the bathroom door opened, and he held out one of the flutes towards Ellie, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Champagne?”


	2. Day 1, Part 2 (Sunday)

Ellie washed her face, grateful she’d forgone makeup that morning in her misery. Her face was still splotchy from crying, though the cold flannel helped ease the contrast.

After wasting a minute or two thoroughly examining the tiny bathroom she gave up, steeling herself to open the door and leave the relative safety of her hideaway. _It’s just Hardy_, she scolded herself, trying to make her hand reach for the doorknob. _Stop being so weird. You invited him on this trip. He’s not going to _expect _anything. You both just had traumatic breakups._

Finally her hand obeyed, and she stepped out into the main area. The first thing that caught her attention was his attempts to remove the romantic elements – the rose petals were gone and the candles were off, which eased some of the pressure.

“Champagne?” Hardy offered, holding a full flute out towards her, and after a moment, she accepted.

“Thanks.”

They clinked the glasses together, and Ellie drank the whole thing in one go, lowering the flute only to see that Hardy had merely sipped at his, and was watching her with raised eyebrows.

Thankfully, he didn’t comment, merely refilled her glass and asked, “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Wander the streets, whatever catches our fancy?”

“Sure. D’you want to head out now and walk around, or stay in and unpack?”

Ellie checked her watch; five o’clock. Far too early for dinner, especially in Paris. But to stay in or go out? She felt a bit antsy, like she needed to move, but it had been such a long day she didn’t want to fall asleep halfway through dinner. _I did sleep on the train…_

“Walk around?”

“Sure,” Hardy nodded, moving towards his suitcase, “just give me a couple minutes.”

Ellie shifted to let him squeeze past, noting they were _both_ careful to avoid touching. “Take your time.” Drifting towards the far side of the bed, she noticed a door flush to the wall; opening it, she found a dozen steps leading up. At the top was another door, and upon opening it, she gasped to find herself on the roof of the hotel, a small semi-private balcony area that was gated in. In reality it was one space divided in four, so it wasn’t terribly private, but it gave such a wonderful view of the river and the _Ile_ across from them that she didn’t care.

“Miller?”

Footsteps on the stairs behind her said he’d followed her up, and a moment later, he joined her with a wide-eyed look of his own.

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” he murmured, looking positively enchanted, and Ellie’s heart twinged with grief.

It was the kind of view you shared with someone you loved, the kind of view you kissed in front of and made plans for the future.

_Joe should be here,_ she thought, hating herself for it. She missed him, or at least the man she’d thought he was. As a detective, as a _cop_, it was her job to protect the public, and she had no time or patience for abusers and perverts. In that sense, she’d immediately and irrevocably cut Joe out of her heart, ending their relationship and refusing to see him even when he asked.

But the man she’d known, who she’d thought he was… _that_ was the Joe she wanted with her. Kind, sweet Joe, who cooked her dinner and made her laugh and wanted to share his day, his dreams, his life with her.

It hurt to know that Joe had never existed, not really.

“Oi.” Hardy jostled her with his elbow. “Look.” He pointed, and she followed his finger to the street along the riverbank. A mime stood on a box, performing, and she couldn’t help a reluctant smile.

“Right, well, that’s what I came to see,” she joked, grinning up at him. “We can go home now.”

Hardy shook his head, giving her a mock scowl, the effect somewhat ruined by madly twinkling eyes. “Now, hold on! _I_ came to Paris to see the _Moulin Rouge_. We can’t leave yet!”

“Can we at least leave for a walk?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Ellie took a moment in the bathroom for herself, dusting on just enough makeup to not look like a ghost, and changing into something a little dressier. Just because she wasn’t here with someone she loved didn’t mean she could look like a savage.

“Ready,” she announced, stepping out and right into Hardy’s chest, drawing a loud ‘oof!’ from both of them. “Sorry.”

“S’alright,” he said, steadying her with his hands on her biceps. “You good?”

“Uh huh.”

Once out on the street they walked side by side, taking in the ambiance and beauty. They took turns pointing out various items of interest, and gradually Ellie relaxed. To her surprise she was actually having fun, enjoying Hardy’s company, and wasn’t that strange?

_Maybe he’s not as terrible as I always thought._

* * *

Sticking his hands in his pockets, even Hardy had to admit that wandering the streets of Paris was relaxing and, dare he say, almost enjoyable. It was a beautiful late spring day, warm enough to be comfortable but not too hot, the slowly-sinking sun a brilliant orange.

Casting his eyes to the side, he tried not to frown at the distant look in Ellie’s eye. Arms folded across her stomach, she seemed to be watching without seeing anything.

_She just found out she almost married a predator_, the little voice in the back of his head scoffed. _Of course she’s in a tailspin. _Setting his jaw, he decided it was up to him to save her trip. _She already spent all this money to be here_, he rationalized, _she ought to get _something _out of it._

“Here,” he said abruptly, noticing a street cart and grabbing her arm, tugging Ellie over to it while ignoring her yelp.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, voice smaller than it should have been, but he ignored her to place his order and pay. Within a minute he had his prize in hand, and turned back to her, offering it out.

“We’ve been in Paris too long not to have a crepe,” he explained patiently when she just stared at him with a blank look. “Go on, have a bite.”

Ellie took the treat, biting carefully before her eyes closed and she let out a moan. “Oh, that’s good.” She took another bite, then scrunched her nose. “Of _course_ you ruined it.”

“Bananas and chocolate are a natural pairing,” he argued, taking the folded crepe back for a bite of his own. It was too sweet for him, but the way she was now watching it like a predator with prey in its sights said it had been the right call. “And I’m sure you’re hungry. You haven’t eaten since your sad breakfast.”

She practically snatched it away when he offered it back to her, taking a ridiculously large bite. “Piss off.”

They started walking again, and he was pleased to see some of the liveliness return to her eyes, as she pointed out things to him again.

_When’s the last time anyone took care of her, instead of her taking care of them?_ he wondered, even as they traded light-hearted barbs. _I doubt her family’s changed. Did her fiancé? Obviously not, in the long run._

_She didn’t have to invite me, could’ve gone on her own, or somewhere else._ A surprising swell of pride surged through him. 

_She trusts me._

* * *

Ellie laughed, watching Hardy study the menu. He was making absolutely no effort to disguise his disgust for the rich French food, but the restaurant had been his suggestion, so she felt no sympathy for him.

“You could get fish,” she finally suggested, stomach rumbling.

Two dark eyes peered at her over the menu, and despite being all she could see of his face, she knew he was scowling. “You’re not helping.” Not waiting for a reply, he turned and caught the waiter’s attention.

“_Oui_?”

Ellie smiled up sweetly, ordering in French, “Good evening, I would like the bouillabaisse.”

“_Merci. Et vous, monsieur_?”

“Uh… chicken,” Hardy muttered, also in French, pointing to a specific dish. “_Merci_. Oh- _vin_. _Plus de vin._”

The waiter nodded, taking their menus and disappearing. Before they even had time to speak, a sommelier appeared with a bottle of red, and Hardy gestured in her direction.

“How’s this?”

Ellie carefully inspected the bottle for just long enough to make him think she knew what she was looking for, before nodding. The sommelier poured them both a taste, and when Hardy nodded, filled their glasses and left the bottle.

Once they were alone Hardy leaned forward, reaching out with his wine glass, and Ellie matched his pose.

“Are we toasting?”

Pursing his lips, he glanced out the window behind her before turning his gaze on her, dark eyes full of emotion despite his iron-glad grip on them otherwise.

“To… second chances,” he offered, tilting the glass. “To old friendships. To lucky escapes.”

Ellie considered him. Running into him had, at first glance, seemed like the only thing that could make her day worse, but in truth, it had been the first good thing to happen to her since Joe’s arrest. “To running away.”

“Hear, hear.”

They sipped moderately from their glasses, setting them down at the same time, and opened their mouths.

“So-”

Stopping, Ellie laughed softly, shaking her head. “The more things change…”

Hardy chuckled in agreement, a smile flitting across his usually stern visage. “Go ahead.”

“I was just going to say… thank you. You’ve always had a way of making a shitty day better. I mean, usually by being a git and pissing me off, but still.”

“It always worked, didn’t it?” he arched an eyebrow, taking another mouthful of wine. “Distracted you.”

Ellie hummed. “To be honest, was a hell of a lot more fun being enemies with you than friends with any of the other tossers in our class.”

To her surprise, a flash of hurt blinked across his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” His eyes fixed on something outside the window for a long moment before he continued, almost reluctantly, “I never considered us enemies.”

“We constantly fought!” she protested, even as a little part of her was glad to hear it. “We were voted _two most likely to kill each other_, remember? I can remember on one hand the number of times we actually agreed on something!”

Hardy snorted, expression easing. “One, we agreed more than it seemed. Not on methods, maybe, but on general topics? Absolutely. I think the term most of our classmates used was ‘bickering’, rather than fighting. People who are _fighting_ don’t have that much fun doing so. And besides…”

“What? ‘Besides’ what?”

He lifted his glass to his lips, obscuring all but his eyes but unable to hide the mirth pooling there. “They certainly voted us ‘most likely to _something_ each other’, and it was a four-letter word, but it wasn’t _kill_.”

Ellie choked on her wine, spluttering as she tried to process that. “You’re lying!”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“You said _it wasn’t see-through_!”

That made him laugh. “Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, “but other than that? They all thought we were together.”

“How come I didn’t know about this?”

“I asked once, why I got all of their shit. Apparently they thought you were the scary one of the two of us.”

“_What_?!” Ellie tried to picture that. At school, he’d been the broody Scot, always wearing a suit and tie to class and snarling at anyone who irritated him. In stark contrast she had been the embodiment of light and happiness, wearing pastels and bringing baked goods in every other week. “_I_ was the scary one?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he nodded like he agreed with the assessment. “I would bark and snarl, but that’s my default – or so I’ve been told. Meanwhile you were, I dunno, Snow-bloody-White. Sweet as could be, but when someone crossed you-”

“Usually you,” she interrupted.

He waved a hand in vague acknowledgement. “-you could _yell_. No one ever forgot that bollocksing you gave Murray over that joke.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Ellie mumbled, sinking down in her chair.

“Course not, he was a plonker,” he shook his head.

Ellie pursed her lips. “Most of those boys were, even you occasionally.”

Hardy’s expression fell slightly, taking on a more serious quality. “I never apologized for that, did I?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “No.” The moment was burned into her memory, one of the more awful experiences she’d had. As only one of two women in a class of thirty, the testosterone had been unbearable. The other girl had dropped out halfway through their third term, abandoning Ellie to their occasional juvenile pranks.

In this particular case, the entire class was at a police training facility getting in some practice, as every one of them were intending to go onto the force. The uniform had been khakis and a white dress shirt.

One of the tasks had been to help each other up over a wall; if they fell, it was into a pool of water. One of the others, she forgot who now, had purposely dropped her. She’d landed on her back, which had hurt her pride more than anything, but had also soaked her.

Hardy had been the one to help her up, and when she’d worried about the state of her shirt, had promised it didn’t show anything.

It wasn’t until two hours later, after lunch in the cafeteria and walking past hundreds of people, that she caught sight of her reflection and realized it was entirely see-through, and her modesty wouldn’t have been much more impacted had she gone entirely topless – which would have probably been far more comfortable than wet, clingy cotton.

That was the first- and last- time she cried over her classmates.

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “It wasn’t right.”

“Thank you.” After a moment, Ellie pushed the memory away. “Besides, I can’t really blame you.”

“Because I didn’t push you?”

She smirked, raising her glass of wine. “No, ‘cause my tits never looked better than they did then. They deserved to be seen by _someone_.”

Hardy was still laughing when their food arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter 3 will be posted on Wednesday, 10/30


	3. Day 2 (Monday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sightseeing in Paris, including Notre Dame, the Conciergerie, and the Louvre for the Mona Lisa.

Ellie startled awake at the feel of the mattress shifting, eyes flying open to see a broad back in a tee rising from the bed.

_Joe?_

He turned then, creeping towards the loo, and she had an out-of-body experience wondering why her uni best frenemy had been in her bed. It all came rushing back after a moment though, her fiancé’s betrayal straight through to running into Hardy at St. Pancras' and inviting him on her trip.

_Too much wine_, she chalked her lapse in memory up to, yawning as she looked for a clock. It was perched on the telly stand, showing an early half six, and she whimpered. Rolling over she ended up on Hardy’s side of the small bed, burying her face in his pillow.

Inhaling deeply in an attempt to go back to sleep, her senses overloaded with his scent, taking her right back to the morning after graduation so vividly she had to physically pat herself down to ensure she was wearing pajamas this time.

Jerking upright she tried to push those memories away, stronger than they’d been in quite some time, and to her horror, not entirely unwelcome. _Stop it_, she told herself firmly, closing her eyes and taking measured breaths, _that was four years of tension boiling over. A one-time thing. Forget about it!_

Climbing out of bed herself, she wrapped herself in her dressing gown and started the Keurig, suspecting tea just wouldn’t cut it that morning. By the time she hit the ‘start’ button Hardy had exited the loo, pausing in surprise at seeing her.

“You’re up?”

She sniffed at his incredulous tone. “Yes.” She had to get past him to get to the loo herself, her curves brushing against his hard angles, and she swallowed harshly at a particular bit of _hardness_ in the vicinity of her thigh. “I’m just…”

“Yeah.”

All but fleeing into the bathroom, she sternly lectured herself as she shut the door behind her. _You have both just had traumatic breakups. You are here as _friends_. It was one time at uni. Stop thinking about it._

Splashing her face with cold water helped, and she put any thoughts of graduation night, or a potential repeat, firmly aside. Straightening her dressing gown and re-belting it, she exited to find the room empty.

_Where-_

Unusually loud sounds of the city tipped her off, and sure enough, she found him on the rooftop balcony with two mugs of coffee.

“That’s yours,” Hardy gestured to the steaming mug on the tiny table. He was leaning on the railing, watching the first hints of pink peek above the _Ile de la Cite._

“Thanks.” Cradling it between her palms and letting it warm her, she settled next to him as they watched the sun rise in silence, sipping at their coffee and enjoying the sounds of life in the city. “I can’t believe I finally got to wake up in Paris,” she eventually murmured, once the coffee and any hint of dawn was gone. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Hardy agreed, his voice surprisingly rough, and she glanced up just as his eyes skittered away.

_Was he looking at me?_ The idea was too absurd to entertain, so she changed the subject. “What do you want to do today?”

“What’s on your agenda?” he countered, and she blinked innocently.

“Sorry?”

Hardy smirked, gesturing for her to go down the stairs to their room first, then closing the door behind them and locking it. “Come off it Miller, we both know you’ve got this trip micromanaged down to the minute. Out with it.”

Ellie couldn’t help the reluctant grin. _After all this time, he still knows me_. That had been evident with her perfectly prepared coffee, but it was nice to know that hadn’t just been a lucky guess. “Breakfast in the hotel, a few sights on the _Ile_, then lunch on our way to the Louvre. _Jardin des Tuileries_ and _Place de la Concorde_. Dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

* * *

Breakfast was easy, their suite including a continental spread every morning, and by eight they were strolling across _Pont au Change_, the bridge to the _Ile_ right outside the hotel doors. Given the early hour, the only thing open yet was the Cathedral, and Ellie led him there without saying where they were going, hoping to see his honest reaction to the Cathedral up close.

It was a short walk, one she had carefully sketched out to give the best possible first view of _Notre Dame_, and they chatted along the way, vaguely discussing their careers to date. Hardy was mid sentence when they walked onto the square outside the Cathedral, where the bell towers reached to the sky, and they both stopped dead.

“It’s beautiful,” Ellie murmured, amazed that she was finally _here_, in Paris, seeing sights she’d dreamed of for so long. “D’you want to go inside?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, a bit breathless himself, and they walked in together. The first thing that caught Ellie’s attention was the sheer size – the ceiling hundreds of feet up, spectacular arches, and plenty of religious icons and statues. It was simultaneously awe-inspiring and overwhelming, and she wondered how Hardy’s Scottish Presbyterianism was handling the decorations.

Given the early hour and that the doors had just opened they were practically alone, wandering down the outer aisles and taking in the artwork, from the carvings on the pillars to the stained glass windows. Reaching the center of the cross-shape they found the aisle, and a view of all three famous rose windows, bright morning sun shining on the altar.

“A bit ostentatious for a place of worship,” Hardy murmured, “but as a historical and architectural sight, nearly unparalleled.”

“Napoleon and Josephine walked up that aisle,” she whispered back. “Kings and Queens married and coronated here. Can you imagine? The pageantry, the beautiful clothing.”

“The smell.”

She elbowed him sharply, only for him to smirk down at her.

“Think about it. Hundreds of people in here, candles and incense burning, and this is before frequent bathing or things like deodorant. Would reek worse than the Tube in a heatwave.” He shuddered violently for effect, making her scowl.

“Why must you always look on the downside?” she wanted to know, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. “Why can’t you just see the _beauty_ in something?”

Hardy shrugged, expression softening as he glanced around. “I see the beauty,” he met her eye again, “but I also see what the beauty was meant to mask. There’s a reason this country has such a violent history, particularly when it came to monarchy, and showmanship. The things you laud are part of what sparked the Revolution.”

Ellie pursed her lips, turning away. “I choose to see the good.” She started off back down the aisle.

“As you should.” He didn’t hurry to catch up with her, but his long legs made easy work of closing the distance anyway. “That’s why we always worked as partners on projects – we could each see the opposite side.”

“Funny, that’s not how I remember it. To my recollection, we were _horrible _as partners, always fighting over the littlest detail. Sometimes it was a truly terrible experience.”

They burst out into the sunlight at the same time, Ellie starting for the gardens surrounding the Cathedral to see its famed architecture and windows from the outside.

“True,” he agreed readily enough, managing to stroll along and keep pace with her quick steps, “but it made _actually_ working with a partner on the force a breeze, I’ll bet. How many times did you think ‘this idiot may be bad but at least he’s not Hardy’? A lot?”

“Shut up.” It was true, though, and they both knew it. She’d never had a problem with getting along with anyone after working with him. Then she realized the opposite must be true as well, and stopped dead. “Hang on, did you think _I_ was difficult to work with?”

Hardy kept walking. “Come on, Miller, shake a leg. I dare not mess with your careful schedule. A place like this, you could _actually _have my head if you wanted.”

Scowling, she hurried after him. “You didn’t answer my question. Hardy? Hardy!”

* * *

After Notre Dame they visited the Conciergerie, taking a guided tour to learn about the building’s history as first a palace, and later a prison, especially during the revolution. The small chapel that now existed on the site of Marie Antoinette’s cell sent a shiver down Ellie’s spine.

“All right?” Hardy murmured, guiding her after the tour group with a firm palm between her shoulder blades.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, glancing over her shoulder towards the room, “there’s just something about history like that… women who _die_ like that…”

He nodded in agreement as they caught up to the group. “I visited the site of Fotheringhay Castle once, as a lad. I’m not one for ghost stories, but… it felt haunted, even though the castle’s been gone for centuries.”

“‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown’”.

Hardy glanced at her in delight. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a Shakespeare fan, Miller.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she smirked, striding ahead as the tour moved on. “Keep up.”

* * *

After lunch at a charming little bistro they entered the Louvre through the iconic glass pyramid, winding their way slowly past thousands of paintings and statues towards the Mona Lisa.

“You have to wait in _line_?” Ellie asked, incredulous, as they were guided between velvet ropes, the line snaking along the perimeter of the large room. “For a _painting_?”

“Gee, Miller, can’t imagine why. It’s not the reason half the people are in the building,” Hardy rolled his eyes at her, making her stick her tongue out in retaliation. “Name one other piece of art here. Reading off the wall doesn’t count.”

She sniffled, scowling at his irritating _I know more than you_ smirk. “Venus de Milo.”

“And?”

“Excuse me,” she said stiffly, arching an eyebrow, “_I’m_ not the one who spent a semester going to art museums to impress the pretty girl in your English class.”

“From what I’ve heard, you might’ve had better luck,” he shot back dryly. “I enjoyed it as well, reasonably. There’s more history there than a first glance would tell you.”

“Spare me.”

They shuffled forward in the slowly but continuously moving line, making an effort to admire the otherwise magnificent paintings they passed that had the unfortunate fate of being in the same room as one of the most famous.

Ignoring him, she focused on the rest of the room until it was their turn, getting in front of the Mona Lisa itself and shoulders slumping as she stared at it. “It’s smaller than I thought.”

“A true work of art,” he murmured next to her, and she wished, not for the first time, to be able to see the world through his eyes. “Incredible.”

After a moment they continued on, spilling out of the line into a mess of people trying to see the painting without waiting.

“What’s wrong?”

Ellie realized her lower lip was trembling, and she bit it viciously in an attempt to stop it. “I expected it to be a lot bigger.”

“It is pretty small,” Hardy agreed kindly, “but it’s also a factor of the room. On a normal-sized wall, it would be very different. This was a royal palace – it’s enormous, and that changes the scope.”

“Spoken like a bloke who’s had to defend _other_ small things,” she teased, trying for levity. “Hear that a lot, do you?”

He laughed, shaking his head, and she realized he looked lighter, somehow, than the day before. “Come on, you, let’s go outside, I know how you love your fresh air.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” she pointed out, letting him guide her out of the museum.

Hardy shot her a supremely cocky smirk, one that seemed almost unnatural on his usually humble face. “I don’t remember you complaining eight years ago. The opposite, if anything.”

To add insult to injury, the wanker had the audacity to laugh when she walked right into a door frame in her surprise.

“Stop it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late; I'm not used to posting mid-week.
> 
> Next chapter will be on Sunday 11/3!


	4. Day 3 (Tuesday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their second full day in Paris. A stroll along the Champs-Élysées leads to the Arc de Triumphe.
> 
> A romantic pre-booked dinner at the Eiffel Tower leads to complications.

Despite Hardy’s playful jabs, Ellie _had_ built free-time into the schedule for them to do as they pleased. Given that the trip had been intended as a honeymoon she had expected to spend that time in bed, but with Hardy as her travel companion instead, they decided to lounge by the hotel pool, relaxing and playing in the water, earning themselves plenty of disapproving glares from the other guests.

After showering and changing they headed out for the day, strolling past the Louvre again to the _Place de la Concorde_, where the _Champs-Elysee _began. The most famous street in Paris, they quickly located a café charming enough for Ellie’s standards and had pastries for lunch.

Once fed they continued on down the boulevard towards _l’Arc de Triumphe_, Ellie _oohing_ and _aahing_ at all the expensive shops they passed.

“Can you imagine having the money to spend along here?” she wanted to know, when he all but forcefully dragged her away from a Louboutin shop. “To just shop to your heart’s content, money no issue. As much as I love my job, I can’t deny I wouldn’t mind a better salary.”

“We’re not in it for the money,” Hardy rolled his eyes, palm pressed firmly between her shoulder blades in an attempt to keep her walking straight without getting sidetracked. “Besides, this is all just… _stuff_. It’s not inherently better than more reasonably-priced items, people just think it is ‘cause it’s got a ‘name’. Who cares?”

Ellie peered up at him, smirking slightly. “So you have no interest in that Paul Smith store?”

His head automatically turned in the direction she gestured, before his back stiffened and he glared down at her. “Not funny.”

“There actually was one, next block over from the Tuileries.”

“Shut up, Miller,” he fell back on an old standby, before pointing at a store front. “Don’t you have something from ‘Lou-is Vut-ton’ already?”

“Oooh!”

* * *

Once they reached _Place Charles de Gaulle_, they stopped to stare at the roundabout, with easily a hundred cars flying around and off onto one of the dozen streets that spread out from there.

“How the hell are we supposed to get over there?” Hardy wanted to know, staring incredulously at the throngs of people inside the roped-off section of the circle, where the Arch itself sat. “Teleport? Walk through traffic? Call Mary fucking Poppins?”

Ellie shrugged, before a sign caught her eye and jogged her memory. “There’s a tunnel!”

“A tunnel?”

“Yes, a tunnel,” she repeated, already heading in that direction. “Keep up. It takes us under the roadway.”

He was muttering behind her but she paid him little attention, starting down the steps amid a throng of other sightseers. Barely three minutes later they came up just in front of the Arch, and having enough presence of mind to step out of the way, she stopped dead to gape.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” she whispered, yelping when someone brushed her elbow.

“It’s just me,” Hardy grumped. “Right, so what’s so special about this?”

She studied his face for a moment, before judging him to be more troublemaker than ignoramus. “Shut up. We’re going up to the top.”

“Why?” He trailed behind obediently anyway, as they joined the ticket queue. “What’s up there?”

“‘What’s up there?’” she mocked. “A gorgeous view of the city, feel the wind in your hair… honestly, you’ve been such a grump since we left the hotel. It’s _Paris_, just try to enjoy it and not be… _you _for a while, yeah?”

“Fine.” Hardy made a face and she made one right back, distracted out of her irritation by the small giggles of the children in line behind them. Smiling awkwardly at them she turned to face forward, glad to not be looking at Hardy when she overheard the conversation behind them.

“Mummy?” the little girl attempted to whisper, “Why were they arguing like that? Aren’t they happy to be here?”

The mother answered her daughter quietly, though clearly not quietly enough – “They weren’t arguing, they were bickering, like how Daddy and I do.”

“What does that mean?”

“That even people in love sometimes get annoyed with each other, but even when they say mean things, they still love each other, and they both know it, even if they don’t like each other in that moment.”

“Like when Daddy leaves the toilet seat up? Or Jason steals my Barbies?”

“Exactly.”

Ellie’s spine stiffened, listening, and she fought very hard not to peek at Hardy’s face to see if he’d heard.

_In love? _Us? _Not bloody likely._

* * *

They took their time going back up the _Champs-Elysee_ on the opposite side, Ellie doing her best not to look at or speak to Hardy any more than necessary, ideally without his noticing.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he finally asked, when they passed the third bakery in a row that Ellie gave no attention. “Was it that garbage you had for lunch? I said you’d regret it.”

Ellie scowled. “I am in France,” she said sternly, “so I am eating French food. Why is that such a difficult concept?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

_He mustn’t have heard them talking behind us_, she realized; she’d been too focused on avoiding him to notice he was no different. _Thank God_.

“I’m just thinking about dinner,” she lied, grimacing as she remembered the reservations they had.

“D’you have somewhere in mind?”

“Actually… I have reservations. Ones already paid for, unfortunately.”

“Where?”

Ellie gave him her best sweet smile, hoping in vain to butter him up. “Restaurant 58.”

He stopped dead, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow. “I’m not playing twenty fucking questions. Just _tell_ me.”

“All right.” She tilted her head, walking again, waiting for him to catch up to say, “It’s on the first level of _la Tour Eiffel_. A guaranteed view of the Trocadero, the park that’s on the other side of the river that you always see in pictures of Paris.”

“Sounds romantic,” Hardy said cautiously, looking genuinely concerned. “You sure?”

“Already paid for,” she repeated. “And the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, thank God. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Please?”

He sighed, reluctantly unfolding his arms, before nodding. “‘Course. Your trip.”

“Brilliant!”

* * *

Once back at the room they started getting ready for an early-for-Paris seating, Ellie taking the shower first so Hardy could be in there while she fussed with her hair and makeup.

She was just struggling with her zipper when Hardy knocked on the door, and she called him in. “Perfect timing! Zip me up?” she asked, turning her back on him as he entered the room and sweeping her hair out of the way.

“Erm, sure.” He came up behind her, and she was hyper aware of him as nimble fingers pinched the dress together and pulled the zip up.

“There’s a button, too,” she mentioned, and he did that as well, before easing her long, loose tresses from her grip and fluffing them along her back, before smoothing his palms over her shoulders.

Ellie’s breath hitched, his touch stirring up surprising emotions. It was light, barely touching her, but she felt it like an electric shock, crackling through her.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, stepping away.

“Thanks. The dress is new.” Unsure of what to do with her hands she smoothed the skirt of the dress down. She’d bought it for the trip, a sexy little dress expected to make Joe’s knees weak. Navy blue and lace, the off-the-shoulder wide bands kept her neck and shoulders bare, perfect for a summer evening out. She felt beautiful and elegant, and utterly alone. Much as she’d tried to not dwell on it, and having succeeded most of the day, preparing for an admittedly romantic dinner had made her long for her almost-husband. The betrayal still stung, burned really, a dark mass in her gut that made her blood burn just to think of it, but forty-eight hours previous she’d been preparing to spend her life with the man.

That didn’t fade overnight, much as she prayed it would. She’d wasted three years of her life with Joe, hoping and planning for a future that had evaporated in a puff of smoke. She was angry, humiliated, a righteous indignation stiffening her spine. Yet the way Hardy looked at her, treated her as if nothing special or unusual had happened, helped. She didn’t want to be coddled, like her sister would’ve tried to do, or patronized and made to feel guilty and at fault, like her parents had berated her.

She wanted to be uni-Ellie again, challenged and equaled. Hardy would pull no punches, wouldn’t sugar-coat anything. He would just let her be in the moment.

“Ready?” he asked, shifting awkwardly and breaking her from her spell.

“Yes.” As they headed headed for the lift, she admired his navy suit, amused to find he’d coordinated himself with her dress.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks.” He offered her his arm, guiding her to the lobby as she ordered a car on her phone.

The Uber driver took the scenic path, which cut in front of the Louvre and passed the glass pyramid, making her smile at the famous sight. Crossing that bridge to the other bank they rode along the river, taking in the happy couples and families strolling along the path. Everything seemed so _bright_, and peaceful, and everything she’d hoped it would be.

“I have to let you off here,” their driver said abruptly. “Security reasons. Is this okay?”

“Fine, thanks,” Ellie smiled brightly, waiting until Hardy had slid out to follow him. They weren’t far, could easily see the tower, and she didn’t mind a little extra walk. Her heels were comfortable, and she was in Paris – c’est la vie.

Once on the sidewalk he offered her his arm again, and she had to admit as they walked that it improved the experience. “It’s nice, approaching on foot. Gives you more a sense of the magnitude.”

“It is pretty impressive, I suppose,” he agreed. “You know it was built as the entrance to the 1889 World’s Fair?”

“Really?”

“Everyone hated it. Was only permitted for twenty years, but by then it had become a landmark.”

“Hard to imagine Paris without it.”

“Right?”

Ellie had pre-printed tickets, so they were able to go to a special line that took them right up to the restaurant. The ride up the lift through the leg of the Tower was a thrill, and she was grinning widely by the time they stepped off. “This is gorgeous!”

The walls were all glass to improve the view, curving with the shape of the Tower. She’d paid for a guaranteed view of the Trocadero, and they only had to wait a few minutes to be seated. The restaurant was minimally decorated, subtle in design so as to not take away from the specialness of the location and views.

“This is nice,” Hardy admitted as they settled in their seats, taking in the view before looking at the menu.

“Right? It won’t get dark until we’re done, but once we are we can go outside – dinner included the price of the ticket for the Tower itself.”

“Great.”

They studied the menu, sitting in a calm silence until after their orders had been placed and their wine poured.

“Hang on,” Hardy blurted, as she brought wine glass to her lips.

“What?”

He held his own out towards her. “To… to finding the silver lining. Or the open window. Or whatever trite motivational fortune-cookie saying you prefer.”

“Well said.”

“Shut up. Point being…” Hardy hesitated a moment, glancing around the restaurant and out the window before settling his eyes on her, sincerity shining there. “I’m very glad I ran into you, and I’m happy to be here with you now. I hope you can say the same.”

A small smile bloomed on her face. “I can,” she said honestly. “Better to find out before the wedding rather than after, I suppose. And it _is_ good to see you again.”

They clinked wine glasses, drinking to the strangest toast she’d ever heard.

And yet somehow it still felt right.

* * *

After a meal where the food was as enjoyable as the company, and an awe-inspiring sunset, they exited the restaurant onto the first level to join the throngs of other tourists trying to take in the city by moonlight.

Ellie’s good mood soured slightly; she’d had the naïve but romantic hope that somehow, she and Joe would be alone on the Tower after dinner, like something out of a movie. _I should have expected this_.

“El.” Hardy tugged her by the elbow, and she turned to him, frowning.

“What?”

But he had disappeared into the crowd, and sighing, she eased her way past the groups, mostly couples, in the direction he’d gone. Finally she found him at the steps up to the next level, waiting impatiently.

They went up together, Ellie clutching tightly to the handrail just to be safe, unused to climbing steps in heels. After the first dozen Hardy came onto her step, resting his hand on her back to offer support.

When they reached the second level, she looked up at him and said dryly, “We are _so_ taking the lift down,” before noticing the view and promptly forgetting her complaint. “Oh, _look_ at this.”

It was far less crowded on the second level, and they were able to find a relatively private spot. Ellie leaned against the railing, almost pressing her face to the protective lattice-work keeping anyone from falling. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Hardy’s voice was heavy with emotion, the same way it had been the previous morning watching the sunrise, and she was afraid to look at him for a moment.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming with me. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I would’ve gotten on the train,” she confessed, staring determinedly at a boat making its way along the river. “I probably would’ve just checked into a hotel and slept the week away, or something, and missed out on the beauty and wonder. God, to think I’d have given up the trip of a lifetime to Paris for a _bloke_.”

Hardy leaned against the railing beside her, sighing. “I had no idea where I was going to go. I’d even been considering going up to Glasgow and visiting family.” He shivered dramatically in disgust, making her laugh softly. “So, thank _you_ for the invite. I hadn’t known how much I missed you until I saw you again.”

Touched, she turned to face him at last, giving him a watery smile. “I missed you too.” Rising up on her toes she leaned in, aiming for his cheek. Later, when she would spend half the night lying awake replaying this moment, she wouldn’t be able to tell if he moved because of bad luck or if he’d misunderstood, but Hardy’s face turned to her at the last possible second, and instead of the innocent kiss to the cheek she had intended, her lips landed squarely on his.

_Oh my God_, she thought, freezing in surprise at the admittedly delightful feel of his mouth against hers. Then he leaned forward slightly, _into_ the kiss, and the only thing running through her mind was _what the fuck?_

Jerking her head back her jaw dropped, as she stared up at him, watching his eyes widen and his throat work as he swallowed.

_What was that?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter 5 will be up on 11/6


	5. Day 4 (Wednesday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call from home disturbs their day in Montmartre.

When the alarm went off mercifully at seven the next morning, Ellie’s hand snapped out to silence it. It was pointless; she hadn’t gotten more than a few minutes sleep the entire night, and Hardy had been far too restless on his side of the bed to have gotten much more, though it had been somewhat hard to tell through the barrier of pillows she’d erected between them the first night.

“D’you want the shower first?” he asked, proving he was awake, voice quiet and weary.

Ellie stared up at the ceiling, not moving for a moment as she contemplated her options. _Shower or coffee first?_ “You can have it,” she finally decided. “I’ll ring down for coffee.”

Hardy just grunted in reply, and she waited until the door shut behind him to leverage herself up and reach for the phone.

With boatloads of caffeine imminent she stretched her back, rolling her head side to side to try to relieve the stiffness there. After the… _incident_ at the Eiffel Tower they’d returned to the hotel, Hardy all but fleeing to the hotel’s small library while Ellie mindlessly flipped the channels, settling down to sleep just as he returned.

It had been a silent, sleepless night, and she cursed them both for making it weird.

A knock on the door startled her, and she threw it open to see a man with two carafes of coffee.

“Oh thank _God_.”

* * *

The tension eased once they made it out of the hotel, Hardy apparently quite content to trail behind her as Ellie led the way.

To his obvious surprise, though, they only walked about a block before stopping.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ellie said automatically, pushing all thoughts of the _incident_ away, before realizing he was probably wondering why they were standing near the curb of an otherwise unremarkable block. “Oh. We’re waiting for- that,” she cut herself off, pointing towards the bus pulling up as she spoke. “It’ll take us out to _Montmartre, _and _Sacre Coeur_.”

“All right,” Hardy agreed readily enough, as they shuffled onto the bus and found seats together, Ellie taking the window. “Couldn’t we take the underground, or metro, or whatever they call it here? Won’t this take ages?”

The bus pulled away and Ellie practically smushed her nose to the glass, trying to take it all in as they drove down the street. “Yes, but there’s nothing to _see_ that way. It might be faster, but it’s all underground. I wanted to see more than just the landmarks.”

He didn’t argue so she considered that a win, watching the city go by. Everything was so _beautiful_, the architecture and awnings, the wide boulevards. _I could stay here forever_. Given what was waiting for her at home, the idea was incredibly tempting. _They must need cops in Paris._ _It would do wonders for my French._

After a fifteen-minute bus ride that felt far too short they got off at the _Boulevard de Rochechouart _stop, just past the tree-divided wide boulevard.

“Now what?”

Ellie grinned at him, tilting her head to the left. “This way.”

She led him down a side street, confident in her directions. The road changed names three times before they stopped at _Place Saint Pierre_, a concrete plaza with a small carousel and children’s play area, and more importantly, a view up the hill to the church. “_Bienvenue a Montmartre_,” she beamed, “famous for art, the Basilica, and its nightclubs.”

“That’s an eclectic group.” Hands on his hips, Hardy peered up the hill. “Not a natural pairing, but somehow, very French.”

“I suppose so. There’s a few ways to get to the top. You don’t mind funiculars, do you?”

“No?”

“Perfect. Come on.”

The inside of the terminal was as charmingly French as everything else she’d seen, and she quickly purchased the tickets to ride to the top, managing to jump on the next one just before the doors closed.

In less than two minutes they were at the top of the hill, Ellie once again leading him only a few yards to the right to the top of the stairs they’d looked up. From there they found a breathtaking view of Paris. It was a brilliant morning, with a bright blue sky and plenty of sunshine illuminating the rooftops of the city. Despite not including any of the famous landmarks, Ellie found she didn’t care, too enchanted with what she _could_ see.

“I love it here,” she murmured.

“It’s not bad,” Hardy agreed, and she side-eyed him. Standing next to her with his hands in his pockets, the bits of his face she could see around his sunglasses suggested he was unimpressed.

“You’ve seen better?”

He turned his head, lips curling upwards. “I’ve always been partial to the view from Edinburgh Castle. Old town on one side, new town on the other.”

“I thought you were from Glasgow?”

Hardy ignored her. “But this is a nice view, I’ll give you that. Peaceful.” Raising his sunglasses, he arched an eyebrow. “Now what?”

* * *

They spent the morning exploring Montmartre, splitting their time between the official sights and the little stalls, hundreds of artists selling their works. More than a few pieces tempted Ellie, but in the end she resisted – _at least for now_, she consoled herself as she kept glancing over her shoulder at one landscape in particular even as they walked away.

For lunch she picked a small bistro with city views, sitting right on the edge of the patio with unobstructed views of the rooftops of Paris.

“This is lovely,” she gushed, sliding her chair in and settling her napkin across her lap before looking up to see Hardy standing awkwardly beside the table. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you sitting?”

“Loo,” he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be back shortly. Feel free to order for me.” Then he was gone, winding his way back into the restaurant proper and disappearing from view.

“Well, okay, then,” she said in confusion, shaking her head. In truth, it was nice to have a moment alone; they’d reverted to their normal bickering, but she suspected it felt as forced for him as it did for her. For the thousandth time the kiss floated through her mind, and she didn’t understand what had happened any better now than she had when it occurred. _It’s a natural reaction,_ she rationalized once again. _Someone goes in for a kiss, you kiss back. It’s automatic. It doesn’t _mean_ anything._

The buzzing of her mobile made her yelp in surprise, digging through her bag for it and answering without checking the caller id. “Hello?”

“El, where _are_ you?” her sister demanded, and Ellie groaned quietly. “What the hell’s going on?”

“I’m in Paris, as I had planned. I had to get away from everything – besides, it was already paid up. I can’t exactly go throwing money away.” A rustle on the other end of the line and a few hushed voices told her she was on speaker, making her roll her eyes and slump back in her chair. “Who all’s there anyway?”

Her father’s disapproving tone came through loud and clear. “It’s your mother and I as well. Eleanor, you should be _here_. Your husband needs you.”

She snorted at that. “He’s not my husband, Dad- we didn’t get to ‘I do’, and more importantly, we never signed the license. And I don’t care what he needs. He can hang for all I care. I want nothing to do with him, and more importantly, I want _you lot_ to have nothing to do with him either!”

“Eleanor,” her mother’s pseudo-soothing voice pleaded, “you spent the last five years of your life with this man. Don’t throw that away!”

“Oh, for fuck’s- _I _didn’t. He did. How dare you lecture me!”

Hardy slid into his seat just then, arching an eyebrow, and she realized her volume.

“Look, Mum, I’ve got to go. Stay away from Joe. He’s dead to me. No- as far as I’m concerned, he’s never existed. I want nothing to do with any of this. I’ll talk to you when I get back.” And, ignoring the three protesting voices coming through, she hung up the call and threw the mobile back in her bag, burying it at the bottom for good measure. “And where the hell have you been?”

Expression not changing, Hardy picked up his menu to peruse it, eyeing her over the top of it. “Loo. D’you really want more information?”

Ellie scowled at him, eyes flickering over him. _Does he really think I don’t know when he’s full of shit?_ “Whatever. Just pick something to eat. Wanker.”

And, raising her menu to hide her face, she ignored the tears leaking from her eyes.

_Why did this happen to me?_

* * *

Arms folded on the table, Hardy studiously stared out at the Parisian rooftops in front of them and ignored his travel companion. She’d lost the menu when their orders were taken, and now had her sunnies firmly situated on her nose as they both pretended she wasn’t crying behind them. The occasional soft sniff would emanate from her direction, but she’d thrown out _Allergies_ and he nodded like he believed her.

“So, what’s on tomorrow’s docket?” he asked just as their food arrived, waiting until the waiter had vanished to look at her.

“Um, a day-trip to Versailles. Pre-booked, they’ll meet us at the hotel. Tour of the palace and gardens. A few minutes free time in the city itself. Should be most of the day, but _spectacular_. I’ve always wanted to go.”

Digging into his salad, Hardy nodded. “Sounds good. And the rest of the week?” It was only Wednesday, and he knew they would be away until the following Wednesday, giving them another six days plus the day to travel back to London. “Seems like we’re seeing quite a bit of Paris all in a rush. Why not spread it out more?”

Ellie froze, fork halfway to her mouth, and the guilty, sheepish smile she gave him said he had missed something. “Funny you mention that…”

“Oh, no, _Miller_. What did you do?”

“On Saturday we leave for Disney.” She gave him her brightest smile, which did nothing to help his plummeting mood.

“Seriously? Miller! You could’ve mentioned that,” he complained, grimacing at the thought. “Why?”

Her face dropped, head tilting down towards her plate, and he closed his eyes. _Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t cry_. A sniff proved that wish to be in vain, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry. Miller, c’mon. Why d’you want to go to Disney on your honeymoon?”

“It’s stupid,” she mumbled, before her head jerked up. “Oh, God, and now I know why he was so _keen_ on the idea. I’m such a moron.”

Hardy ruffled his hair in frustration before leaning across the table towards her. _It’s the fourth day and the first time she’s gotten so emotional. This could be worse_, he reminded himself. “Ellie, please.”

“Don’t do that,” she sniffled, “don’t call me _Ellie_. I don’t want your pity.”

He waited her out, and eventually, she took a long drink of her water and dabbed at her eyes.

“Fine. I thought it would be good for us to go and have some fun, just blow off some steam. I’ve always wanted to go, and… the last year has been so _stressful_, planning the wedding, I just thought…” she sniffled, shaking her head with a sardonic smile. “I thought it would be a good balance. That by getting married we’re not sacrificing our inner child, that we can still _play_. That life isn’t just mortgages and jobs and babies and brunch. It’s silly, I know, but…” Ellie shrugged. “I know it’s probably not your thing, so if you don’t want to go that’s fine. I appreciate your company but you’re under no obligation. If you’d rather stay here or go back to London, I understand.”

She looked so sad, eyes watering as she put on a brave smile, and his stomach sank.

“Looks like we’re going to Disney.” He tried to keep the derision out of his voice, and judging by her brightening eyes, he mostly succeeded.

_Oh boy, Disney. What fun._

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 will be available on 11/10


	6. Day 5 (Thursday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day trip to Versailles, and an unexpected phone call.

“Ellie.”

The soft whisper of her name stirred her, making her whimper and hide her face in her pillow. It was soft, warm, and altogether heavenly; she didn’t want to get up.

“Ellie, we’re here.”

She grunted, swatting halfheartedly in the direction of the voice, wondering dimly why her pillow was speaking. _This is the strangest dream I’ve ever had._

“Miller!”

Eyes snapping open she bolted upright, blinking rapidly as she tried to take in her surroundings. She was seated on an empty coach, against the window, alone but for Hardy who sat next to her – worryingly in the direction she’d just leaned away from. _Was I asleep on him?_

“Wha’?”

He stood, settling his hands on his hips as he waited for her. “We’re here,” he repeated. “Time to get off the bus.”

“Did I sleep the whole way?” She rose as well, turning her back for a moment to discreetly wipe at her mouth, grimacing at the crusted drool before sliding her purse over her shoulder. “Sorry.”

“S’all right.” Stepping back he let her lead the way off the bus, alighting onto a sandy carpark where dozens of other tour buses were parked, a steady stream of people walking past.

They fell into step, Hardy gently guiding her towards a vaguely-familiar looking woman wearing a fashionable scarf and holding a clipboard. She gave them a severe look as they joined the rest of the group, before beginning to speak.

“_Bienvenue a_ Versailles. Originally a modest hunting lodge built by Louis Thirteen, he and his successors through Louis Sixteen built it up to what you see today, when the family lost it during the Revolution. What you see in front of you is _le Cour d’Honneur_, or the Royal Court. Then we will pass through the Gate of Honor, where we will meet our guide. Please, follow me.”

Eyes wide Ellie followed the group, breathless as she stared at the gates. The fence along them was gold, shining brilliantly in the morning sun. It would be imposing on its own, were it not for the gate itself, double the height and topped with beautiful scrollwork and, at the highest point, a crown.

“This is beautiful,” Ellie whispered to Hardy as they crossed in front towards the entrance. “I’m so happy I’m here.”

When she tore her eyes away to glance at him, he was smiling softly. “I’m glad. C’mon.”

* * *

“Oh, _wow_,” Ellie murmured, as they stepped out of the Palace into the gardens.

Hardy hid a smile by fussing with his sunglasses, situating them firmly on his nose to combat the bright sun. She’d been saying some variation of that for the last hour, all through the tour of the Palace. Even he had to admit that it was, _maybe_, somewhat impressive, despite his thoroughly-Scottish Presbyterian austerity. _Of course, it’s no surprise they went bankrupt._ “We’ve got an hour before we’re to be back at the bus – what d’you want to do?”

“Can we walk through the gardens?” She turned to him, smiling hopefully as if he might actually say _no_.

“If you like,” was all he said, waiting patiently while she pulled out her own sunnies and fussed with her camera. “Ready?”

They headed straight, and he let her choose the path, listening with one ear as she chattered on, recapping the tour as though he hadn’t been beside her the entire time, highlighting the parts she’d liked best.

“-oh, but that _bedroom_! Can you imagine? And who could possibly _need_ all that staff! I mean, I wouldn’t turn down someone to do the cooking and cleaning, I’ll admit, and I suppose it’d be nice to have someone else do the laundry, but still! How do you _live_ like that and take yourself seriously? Did they honestly believe that they had been _chosen_ to be treated like gods, that they were so much better than anyone else? Not to mention-”

“Where are we going?” he cut her off, as they angled off past the third pond. “I mean, d’you have a direction in mind? Because if it’s a stroll to take in the gardens you’re after…” He gestured vaguely.

Ellie blinked at him before glancing around. “It’s nice,” she shrugged, “but actually, I was heading for _le Petit Trianon_. It was Marie Antoinette’s bolthole when court pressures got to be too much.”

He stopped dead to stare at her, before shaking his head and sighing. “It must’ve been very hard to be Queen of France.”

“Oh, don’t be an arse.”

“What?” he protested, as they continued down the tree-lined path towards the mansion appearing in the distance. “I’m just saying, not exactly like she had to work for a living!”

Ellie scoffed. “Clearly you were never a teenage girl, because if you had been, you would _not_ be saying that. D’you _know_ how vicious women can be?”

“You kidding me?”

“No, I’m not kidding! She was under _tremendous _pressure to be perfect. The other women at Court expected her to have the best of everything, the _latest_ of everything, while the average citizen saw her as an unapologetic spender, wasting money on clothing and parties while they starved. She was a victim of the French court, and it cost her her life! It’s easy for men, the expectations of them are minimal at best, but women are expected to be happy and light, a perfect hostess… witty but not too smart, knowledgeable without knowing more than the man she’s talking to, loyal and obedient to someone who doesn’t give a _rat’s ass _about her dignity or reputation! We’re supposed to just _forgive _any transgression, no matter how big, any humiliation or belittlement and just take it with a smile! It’s utter bullshit, it’s a ridiculous standard, and _it’s not fair!_”

Hardy stared at her, taken aback. Her chest heaved, eyes leaking tears, her expression heartbreakingly lost and small. _This isn’t about Marie Antoinette, _he realized, watching her lower lip tremble. “I’m sorry, Miller,” he said quietly, sighing. “You’re right, it’s _not_.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she warned, wiping angrily at her cheeks. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” he rolled his eyes, before checking his watch. “Now, we’ve got forty minutes, and it’ll take most of that to get back to the bus. Let’s go see her hideaway, then get back to the group – I don’t fancy being left behind.”

* * *

“My father used to have affairs,” Hardy said apropos of nothing, making Ellie’s gaze snap towards him.

They were seated on a riverboat, the last leg of the tour being a boat ride up the Seine, getting on at Sèvres and sailing up towards the disembarkation point near the Musée d'Orsay, which was only a few blocks from their hotel. They’d claimed spots at the very back of the boat, and given the light load of the group, were practically alone, most people congregating at the front.

Ellie had been lost in her thoughts, wondering about any deeper symbolism in her desire to look back at where they’d been rather than forward towards where they were going.

“What?”

“My father,” he repeated, staring determinedly out the back window, “constantly made a fool of my mum. She always tolerated it, looked the other way, and I’m sorry to say I always thought less of her for that. That she should’ve gotten out when she could, that she shouldn’t have let him put her- put _us_ through that.”

She tilted her head, trying to wrap her head around her words even as she marveled at his openness; he’d never discussed his home life before. “I imagine she had no easy choices,” she said diplomatically.

“My point is,” Hardy sighed, glancing her way, “that I’ve seen what happens when a woman just takes what her husband gives her-” his face tightened, suggesting things Ellie didn’t want to unpack at that particular moment, “that it will destroy her. If your family’s upset in the moment, that’s one thing, but don’t let them carry on too long about if you should’ve handled it differently. You have to take care of you – your ex isn’t your responsibility. If they try to tell you to make it work with him once you get back, tell them to get fucked.”

“They’re the only family I’ve got,” Ellie scoffed wryly, shaking her head. “I mean, I won’t have anything to do with him, but not sure I can get them to stop talking about it.”

He shifted on the bench to face her, pushing up his sunglasses in a surprising display of vulnerability. “Ellie. If they’re more concerned about _him_ than they are about _you_, they’re not worth your time and effort. Hell, I’ll be your family if you want, or whatever. Just… don’t let them carry on about it. The one time my mum tried to leave, tried to get me away from him, her family made us go back. I never forgave them for it.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered, looking down at her hands. “That’s an awful thing to have happened. Thank you for… trusting me with that, I suppose.”

“She was like you, far as I can remember, when I was little. Bright and cheerful, always looking at the silver lining. And over time, he and her family dulled the sparkle until nothing was left. You have to make _you_ a priority, because you can’t trust anyone else _will_.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Her mobile rang while they were relaxing before dinner, the screen lighting up in time to the jaunty tune it played, vibrating on the desk.

Ellie grimaced, staring down at it. “Unknown number. What d’you think?” She was seated at the desk, inches from the device, but made no move to reach for it.

Hardy shrugged, sitting up from where he’d been sprawled on the bed flipping channels on the telly. “Send it to voicemail? Could it be work?”

With a sigh she answered it, holding it to her ear. “This is Miller.” Almost instantly the blood drained from her face, hand shaking, and his gut knew who was on the other end of the line.

Springing off the bed he eased the mobile from her hand and put it to his own ear, barking, “What?”

“Who’s this?” a confused man’s voice came to him, and Hardy bared his teeth.

“Alec Hardy, I’m a friend of Ellie’s. Who’s this?”

“Joe Richards, her fiancé. Can I speak to Ellie, please?” He said tersely, rather rudely Hardy thought for someone charged with child pornography.

Hardy raised an eyebrow at Ellie, who shook her head violently. “No. In fact, she’d prefer to never hear from you again.” That got him a double thumbs up. “I strongly advise you never contact her- _or_ her family- ever again.”

A pause on the line had him waiting with bated breath, and when the other man spoke, his words were entirely unexpected.

“Did you say Hardy? As in her uni boyfriend?”

_Boyfriend_? “Uh, yeah, that’s me.” Despite the situation, the corners of his mouth tugged upward, earning himself a confused glare from Ellie. “What’s it to you?”

“Now listen here, _prick_, Ellie is _my_ fiancée, and as soon as I beat these charges-”

“If such a gross miscarriage of justice were to occur,” he cut Joe off, “you will _leave_\- wherever it is Ellie lives, and you will run as far away as possible. Just know that no matter how far you _do_ go, it will never be far enough, and you will always be watched to ensure you harm no one. Do you understand?”

After a moment, the line went dead, his face tightening as it occurred to him that he might have overstepped. Handing the mobile back to Ellie, it took all he had not to flinch when she pushed back from the desk and stood.

She stared at him, eyes searching his, and he held his breath, waiting for a verdict.

“Thank you,” was all she said, before closing the distance between them and throwing her arms around his waist, holding him tightly and resting her face against his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Slowly, scared she might bolt if he moved to fast, he returned the hug and held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “So am I.” It was nice, having her in his arms, and he felt a vise in his chest loosen.

_I don’t want this trip to end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... somehow this fic is halfway through? Not entirely sure when that happened. Buckle in, it's going to be a fun ride!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Day 6 (Friday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardy opens up, changing the past and potentially their future.

“Hard to believe this is our last day in Paris,” Hardy noted, handing her a glass of wine before sitting down next to her. “This trip has flown by.”

Ellie accepted the glass gratefully, taking a fortifying sip before agreeing. “It really has. Everything before running into you feels like ancient history, not a _week_. To think-” she cut herself off, realizing that she didn’t want to talk about her almost-marriage with Hardy. Though it had felt forced at the beginning, to ignore the elephant in the room, now it felt natural – almost out of place.

She didn’t want to talk about her past, but rather, she was considering her future and what she wanted.

_Who_ she wanted.

She took another large gulp. _It’s just the wine and romantic sunset Seine riverboat cruise talking, _she tried to convince herself.

“Anyway…” Hardy drawled, eyeing her curiously, “if nothing else, we’ve certainly gotten some distance from our troubles.”

“That’s for sure.” Stretching her legs out in front of her, Ellie watched the setting sun play over the steel frame of the Eiffel Tower, captivated by the fiery glow. “Thank you, really, for coming with me.”

He stayed silent for long enough that she didn’t expect a response, so she startled when he spoke.

“You probably don’t know this- I don’t know how you would as I didn’t tell anyone other than my professors- but a few weeks before the end of the fall term our last year, my mother got sick.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped, not having expected that. “I’m sorry- what was wrong?”

“Cancer- everywhere, but it had started in her breast, near as they could tell. By the time it was caught, it had…” Stretching his long legs out in front of him, he leaned back slightly on the bench to stare up at the darkening night sky. “Well, at that point I dropped everything to return home to try to… keep her comfortable. It only took ten days, then another week for the funeral and wrapping up her affairs, not that she had anything significant. That… that’s why I missed the presentation. The day she was diagnosed and I left to go to her was the night we were supposed to meet.”

Ellie’s breath caught, eyes widening. She knew the night he was talking about; she’d spent _hours_ in the library waiting for him, only he never showed. She’d spent a good portion of that time cursing him and complaining (mostly to the empty study room she’d reserved), and now felt horrible about it. “I had no idea,” she whispered, wincing in mortification at how she’d gone off the next time she’d seen him – which had been _after_ the presentation. “Oh, _Hardy_. I’m so sorry.”

“Anyway,” he continued without acknowledging her, “I muddled through the last week or two of the semester, then went home and cried my way through the holidays. That’s why I was so much worse after classes resumed – I’d just spent a month listening to my father complain about how selfish my mother’d been to go off and die and leave him alone. He didn’t care that she’d died, only that she wasn’t there to play servant for him.”

“And I was a total bitch to you about it,” she moaned, grimacing. “I didn’t have a clue, I thought you were just being… eccentric or something. Fuck, I’m sorry, Alec, really.” His first name slipped out, entirely on instinct, and it would’ve felt strange if she wasn’t so heartbroken for him. “I don’t know what to say.”

He turned his head to face her, smiling softly. “I’m fine,” he promised. “And you couldn’t have known, because I didn’t tell you. But you helped me anyway.”

Ellie snorted, angrily wiping away a stray tear. “Oh, sure I did,” she snarked. “By- by- by _bullying_ you? Constantly harassing you about things? Competition? Yes, I can see how _that_ would be helpful.”

“Miller,” he sighed, an oddly affectionate inflection to her name that only served to make her lower lip tremble. “Believe it or not, _yes_. Spending time with you, _competing_ with you as you put it… it all felt normal. It was the _only_ thing that did at the time. My mother was just… _gone_. The only family I had, really, in the sentimental people-who-love-you sense. But bickering with you over test answers and working on projects… I could forget it, at least for a little while. It kept me out of my own head.”

She twisted her lips, unsure of how to take that. On the one hand she was glad to have been a comfort, even an unknowing one, but on the other, she felt absolutely rotten over how she’d treated him. “I wish you’d trusted me,” she said, voice low, “and told me. I could’ve helped, somehow. I’m sorry you felt the need to struggle alone.”

“Of course I trust you. There’s no one else on this Earth I trust more,” he shrugged, before wincing. “That sounds a bit sad, but it’s true. I didn’t exactly have many friends in my department on the best day, and now most have sided with my ex and her other bloke. My father’s gone, not that he was ever worth a damn. There’s acquaintances I’ve built a decent working relationship with, but… there’s no one who has shown me the same level of kindness you do.” He grimaced again. “That still sounds awful. Perhaps my point is- there’s no one else I’d rather be on holiday with.”

“It does sound pathetic,” Ellie agreed after a moment, making him roll his eyes. “But… I know what you mean. I… don’t have anyone either. I do have a few decent mates, but no one I even remotely considered asking to come along. The best friend I _do_ have has a toddler, and so I barely see her, and when we do it’s all about Chloe- her daughter. I mean, she’s absolutely precious and I adore her, I’m her godmother, but still…”

A server appeared then with a bottle of wine, and without a word both thrust their glasses towards him, waiting until he’d filled both and moved on to turn back to each other somewhat awkwardly, the moment lost.

“Well,” Hardy lifted his glass towards her, “here’s to us- the sorriest pair I’ve ever met.”

Laughing, Ellie clinked her glass against hers. “Hear, hear.”

And, sipping at the ruby liquid, she realized that despite the epithet, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so hopeful.

* * *

They stumbled into the hotel bar arm in arm, still laughing at how the self-righteous holier-than-thou cow on the cruise had been so bloody anxious to be first off the boat and not have to wait for anyone she’d almost gone for an unexpected swim in the Seine when the boat moved unexpectedly as she’d clambered off.

“The way her arms were windmilling though!” Ellie howled, the copious wine not helping her regain her landlegs. “Did you _hear_ how she screamed?”

“I thought her husband was going to jump in, he was so embarrassed by her,” Hardy sniggered in response, his arm a solid weight around her waist helping keep her steady. “And I don’t blame him- I’d have arrested her for disturbing the peace or something if I could’ve. No question that she was overserved.”

They found a booth in the back corner, a horseshoe-shaped one that let them sit together, and Ellie didn’t think twice about sitting snugly against Hardy’s side. “It’s cold in here,” she shivered for emphasis, smiling brightly when he rolled his eyes and removed his sport coat to drape it around her shoulders. “Oh, _thank_ you,” she gushed, batting her eyelashes at him. “You’re too kind.”

“More like I know better than to get you mad when you’re drunk,” he smirked, stretching his arm along the top of the seatback. “More wine, or something else?”

“Hmmm…” Ellie reached for the drinks menu, humming idly to herself as she flipped the pages. “What’re you having?”

“I’ll have whatever you have.”

“_Oooh_, whiskey!”

“_No._”

“Hardy!”

“Miller!”

When glaring didn’t work she pouted, sticking out her lower lip. “But why not?” she whined. “I like it, and you’re Scottish. You’re legally obligated to drink it.”

“Because whiskey makes you _aggressive_,” he smirked, shaking his head. “Remember? You had a double at Morgan Anderson’s, and single-handedly caused the party to get _raided_. At _Easter_. I had to do some _very_ fast talking to keep what’s-her-name from pressing charges.”

“Margaret Finnegan,” Ellie sniffed, “and she was being a bitch. We were clearly in the middle of a conversation! She’s lucky that was _all_ I did.”

She didn’t appreciate the amused curl to his lips, or the light in his eyes. “Right,” he agreed, his tone mocking. “You merely pushed her, and pulled her hair, and took a swing at her. She got off easy.”

“Stop making fun.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he chuckled. “You’re more Glaswegian than I am, I think.”

Ellie scowled, before turning and waving over the waitress. “More wine, then?”

* * *

Two bottles later they were well and truly blitzed, and Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much _fun_ with someone. Probably with him, at uni. The wine had well and truly relaxed her, and the gentle glide of his fingertips along her bicep didn’t hurt.

“What?” Hardy cut himself off to ask, looking at her curiously. “All right?”

“Why didn’t we stay in touch?” she asked, unaware she’d been thinking about it until the words slipped out. “After graduation- I never heard from you again.”

He paused, glancing down at his half-full wine glass before draining its contents. “You were gone when I woke up,” he reminded her with a sigh. “I stopped by your flat later that morning. You weren’t there but your sister was, and I left a letter for you with her with my contact information. So I’m not sure how it’s _my_ fault we lost touch.”

Ellie’s head jerked up from where it had been heavily supported by her elbow on the table. “Wait, what? You left me a letter?”

“Yeah, with your sister. Well, she said she was your sister. And she looked exactly as how you always described her.”

“I never told you what she looked like,” Ellie frowned, mind racing as she tried to remember if Lucy had ever given her a letter. _Maybe it got put in a box and forgotten?_ She hadn’t gone through most of her stuff after moving home, and had moved most of them straight into her new house without ever unboxing them.

He snorted. “You didn’t need to. It was obvious from her personality.”

“Well, I never got it, not that I’m particularly surprised. Though you could’ve called _me_; I’d already given you that information,” she reminded him.

“I’m no good with that,” Hardy said gently. “And I figured… if you wanted to get in touch, you would. That maybe I had ruined everything with… what happened.”

Ellie laughed at that. “I wouldn’t say that,” she said coyly, the wine giving her courage. “I thought… ‘what happened’… was actually pretty nice.” She shifted in her seat, leaning slightly closer to him and grinning.

“Then why did you leave?”

“I was late for brunch with my family. Wasn’t exactly by choice. And when I went to see you later, you were already gone.”

Hardy licked his lips nervously, drawing her gaze as her imagination went into overdrive. “So… it wasn’t out of regret?”

Heat pooled in her lower belly, eyes widening slightly as she realized, distantly, what would inevitably happen if this conversation continued.

“Decidedly not.”

He reached out a trembling hand, pushing a loose lock of hair back from her face. “Glad to hear it,” he rasped, the lower pitch to his voice fanning the flame building inside her. “I had thought it was… _pretty nice_ too.”

“I suppose it’s like you said, we agreed more often than we knew.” _Is he getting closer?_ Her breath caught, anticipation making her skin tingle. “I wonder if you agree with what I’m thinking right now.”

His arm slipped down around her waist, palm warm against her side, and she was hyperconscious of how they were pressed together from hip to knee. “Suppose that depends on what you’re thinking. Can’t read minds, me.”

_This is a bad idea_, the little voice of reason in the back of her mind whispered. _Bad breakups, remember? You haven’t seen each other in a decade._

“D’you want to know, though?” Her hand settled on his knee, and she watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, waiting in nervous anticipation for his reaction.

“You know me, I’m a curious soul,” he murmured, squeezing gently at her waist.

Heart pounding, she let her lips curl as she leaned up and into him, whispering into his ear.

And, just to be sure he understood, she slid her palm up his thigh and over his zip, making his hips jerk up as he gasped.

“Check please!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on Sunday 11/17.
> 
> Chapters post every Sunday and Wednesday.


	8. Day 7, Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardy and Miller bid adieu to Paris and head for Disney Paris - but their location is not the only thing changing.

The phone ringing jolted Ellie awake, and she swatted blindly towards the nightstand until she found it, bringing the handle to her mouth.

“‘Lo?”

“Bonjour, madam, your requested wake-up call,” the entirely-too-perky woman from the front desk chirped, and rather than respond verbally, Ellie just groaned and hung up.

“Wha’ was that?” Hardy grumbled from somewhere next to her, one arm flung across her hips.

Ellie buried her head in the pillow, too tired to think. “Wake-up call.”

“Why?”

“Fuck if I know.” Then she gasped as his lips found her neck. “That wasn’t an invitation!” She only recognized her poor word choice when he tensed, pulling away. “No, wait,” she protested, rolling over and directly into his chest, unaware he was so close. “Hi.”

His grunt sounded particularly pained, and she attributed it to her wine hangover why it took so long to understand the reason.

“Ooh, sorry,” she grimaced, easing her knee away from his groin and nuzzling into his neck in apology. “All right?”

Taking a few deep breaths he slowly relaxed, and she felt more than saw his nod. “I’ll be fine.” Tentatively he wrapped his arm around her, making her sigh heavily. “Why did we need a wake-up call?”

“‘Cause we have to check out at ten, and be on an eleven o’clock train,” she murmured, drowsy.

“What time is it now?”

“Eight.”

He yawned, cuddling her closer. “Plenty of time.”

Ellie drifted, too tired to wonder at how _right_ it felt pressed against him, skin to skin, limb to limb. For as thin and bony as he looked, he was surprisingly comfortable to rest against.

Eventually he began to shift, and she blinked awake. “Wha’s wrong?”

“Loo.”

She obligingly rolled away, shivering at the shock of cool air slipping beneath the covers, startling her awake – and then reality began to crash down around her ears, as she started to process what precisely had happened the previous evening. _And at midnight. And early this morning._ If her shoddy memory served, they’d woken twice for more… _enjoyable_ activities.

_Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit._

Bolting upright, she had her dressing gown belted and was starting to pack by the time he emerged from the bathroom, though she couldn’t keep herself from scanning his nude form. _God, he looks good. Stop it, Eleanor!_

“We should really start getting ready,” she said brusquely, turning her back on him in an attempt to resist jumping him. “It’s already after nine, and we still need breakfast.”

She waited with bated breath to see what he would say, and was disappointed when, after a moment of silence, she peeked over her shoulder to find him merely pulling on his pants and beginning to pack himself.

_Have I made a horrible mistake?_

* * *

The feeling of _déjà vu_ was almost visceral as Hardy sank into the aisle seat on the train. Much as it had been the week before, things between them were awkward and stilted, and he was frustrated that all of the ground they’d gained had vanished so easily.

_Last night was a mistake_, he was disappointed to realize. _It shouldn’t have happened._ It had been good- no, _great_, in the moment, but if it put them back at square one or worse, it wasn’t worth it. _I don’t want to lose her again._

He glanced at Ellie, watched her stare out the window at the bustling platform.

_How do I fix this?_

* * *

Ellie spent the hour-long train ride out to Chessy glaring out the window, wracked with indecision.

On the one hand, it had been an incredible night, full of vulnerability and heat, and in that sense, she had no regrets. It had been a release she needed in several ways, and she was immensely proud of herself for not crying, though she’d been on the verge a few times. And Hardy… she bit her lip, hoping the flush she felt creeping over her face wasn’t visible.

_Mhmm. _Either her champagne-soused memories of graduation night didn’t do him justice, or he’d significantly improved his technique in the intervening years.

And yet…

Her five-year relationship had only ended a week ago, in an unnecessarily dramatic and traumatic way, watching the man she loved be arrested halfway through their vows. It had been devastating, soul-crushing, and sent her into a tailspin questioning everything. This… this _thing_ with Hardy, the man himself… he meant too much to her, and she was terrified that it would just turn into a rebound, and that wasn’t what she wanted.

_Plus, he just got out of a relationship himself_, she had to remind herself- that was why he’d been free to come on the trip anyway, a suspension for punching his girlfriend’s side bloke. _Are we just reaching for what’s familiar and there?_

He didn’t seem any different than he had been at uni, maybe a little older, a little more tired of life, but then again he’d always been good at hiding himself. _Just look at how I had no fucking clue about his mum dying._

_I don’t know what to do._

* * *

They were staying on-property, their hotel only steps from the train station so they walked, dragging their luggage behind them. Hardy had never been so grateful for wheels on suitcases in his life, as they bumped along the path to the hotel’s front doors. Ellie strode determinedly ahead of him, and he let himself indulge the desire to study her.

While he generally considered himself not to be a fan of people in general, something about this woman had captivated him from the moment they’d met on the first day of classes and held his attention ever since. She was bright and bubbly, a big personality that wasn’t terribly overbearing, but underneath the soft exterior was a solid steel core, one more than capable of taking a hit. The only woman in a class of thirty men, she’d leaned into the femininity, making herself stand out in pastels and skirts – which had only served to stun the rest of them when it came down to the wire, when they finally saw the grit and determination lurking beneath.

He’d never been fooled by the show. After all, he’d done the same thing, hiding his true self behind a suit-and-tie uniform, rough Scottish accent, and a dead-eyed glare. Over time he’d committed himself so thoroughly to his armor that sometimes, in the dead of night, he wondered who he was without it.

This trip, without even realizing it, he’d broken free. When he’d tried to wear a suit on their first morning Ellie had nearly busted a gut laughing, forcing him into what she deemed appropriate clothes. The only time he’d worn a tie was to dinner several evenings, and only when she was dressed up herself.

It felt strange; he hadn’t gone so long without wearing a full suit since leaving Glasgow, but it also felt freeing, somehow. _He_ felt free with her, able to forget life’s trials and tribulations awaiting him back in Sandbrook, had barely thought about his career despite the danger it was currently in.

He was too caught up in _her_.

Following her into the hotel he nearly tripped over her when she stopped dead, biting back a curse. Then he looked up, taking in the lobby, eyes widening slightly.

_Shit. This is something else._

“It’s like a palace,” Ellie breathed, wonder in her voice, and despite himself, he had to agree, lacking a better description.

Three stories high it looked like a Georgian mansion, with white-painted wooden panels. Bright and open, the focal point was the main staircase, going straight up to the first floor and a landing before splitting off and reach for the second floor.

A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, and even he had to admit the entire effect was fairly spectacular. _Exactly the kind of overwhelming extravagance one would expect from Disney._

“Not bad,” he just shrugged when she looked at him though, repressing a smile when she huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine, mister unimpressed. I’ll go get us checked in.” Ellie wandered over to the right where reception was, abandoning her suitcase, which he promptly rolled closer to himself before continuing to look around.

For being a Saturday the lobby was fairly empty, though he supposed most guests were likely already in the park. He was just thinking _This could be a hotel anywhere, what makes it so special?_ when he realized that nearly every piece of furniture contained something _Disney_. The hall table, one of the first things in line of sight walking through the doors, had two glass cases on it – one containing Mickey Mouse in a wizard’s outfit, the other Pinocchio. _Really?_

“Isn’t this beautiful?” Ellie gushed, appearing at his elbow. “Here, your MagicPass.” She forced a card into his hand, the size of a credit card but blue and gold, containing the outline of the castle. “It’s your room key, ticket to the parks, FastPass, charge card… pretty much all you’ll need while here. Don’t lose it. Our room is ready, d’you want to go up?”

Hardy swallowed harshly, looking into her face. She was doing her best to be jolly and excited, hiding her worries, but he knew her better than that, could see the tension and exhaustion beneath the surface.

“Sure.”

As they headed for the lift he wondered what would happen when they reached the privacy of the room, how she would react. Ideally, they’d lie down for a nap, or possibly even a cuddle, but his instinct told him the moment had passed, at least for now. Everything that had happened under the cover of darkness would be forgotten for the time being, swept away, and she would be too filled with anxious tension to allow either of them a moment’s rest.

Twenty feet down the corridor they stopped at a door, Ellie using her ‘MagicPass’ to unlock it, and he held his breath as she pushed it open.

* * *

Ellie bit her lip, wondering if she’d made the right decision as she swung open the hotel room door. She’d booked the least expensive option room-wise for this leg of the trip, intending to spend more time in the parks than in the room. When checking in she’d had an opportunity to switch to a room with two double beds rather than the single large double bed that she’d booked.

It had felt like a test put forth by the universe. Switching to the two beds was the smart thing to do; it said that what had happened had been a lapse in judgement, that she had no intention of letting it recur. Keeping the one bed would mean willingly sharing a bed with Hardy, and allowing for the possibility of a repeat performance.

Dragging her suitcase inside she kept her back to him, waiting to hear his reaction, entirely uncertain of whether she’d made the right choice.

“One bed,” he said neutrally, and something loosened inside her chest.

“Yeah, I couldn’t get them to switch it,” she lied, hoisting her suitcase onto the bed and unzipping it to unpack. “Hope that’s not a problem.”

Hardy lifted his own luggage next to hers, unzipping it, and she took a moment to stare once he’d thrown back the top. Inside everything was perfectly arranged, neatly organized and looking professionally packed.

Then she looked into her own, where everything was thrown in haphazardly and chaotically, and drew a shuddering breath. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Fine.” He turned towards the bureau just as she tried to move past him towards the bathroom, resulting in them crashing into each other, his bundle of clothes falling to the floor in favor of grabbing her waist, keeping her upright.

“Thanks for the save,” she whispered, momentarily stunned by the near-fall, painfully conscious of his hands on her hips, her own on his biceps. They were impossibly close, chest to chest, hip to hip, and her eyes unwillingly darted to his lips and then the bed behind him.

Hardy merely grunted, fingers tightening, drawing her closer, and she went willingly.

_Please._ She was so lost in his eyes she didn’t immediately recognize the beat pounding through her. _Please, please, please. Say you want me._

They grew closer still, a breath apart now, heads tilting, and her eyes slipped closed. _Just a little closer_…

Time seemed to stand still, the only sound their shaky breathing and the pounding of her heart, a wonderfully impossible moment. _They say Disney’s the happiest place on Earth_, she thought distantly, waiting for his lips to meet hers. 

_I need some happy right now._

_No, that’s not true – I just need Alec._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 will be posted on Wednesday 11/20


	9. Day 8, Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They spend the day in one of the parks, and are mistaken for a honeymooning couple several times - for good reason.

In the deepest corners of his heart, Hardy relied on his instinct. He could usually come up with a solid reason for doing something, could make it look carefully planned and deliberate, but in truth, it was all reactionary instinct and quick thinking, born of a childhood spent with his father.

When Ellie spun into him, his only thought was of her, with no regard for the clean laundry he held. Gripping her waist tightly to keep her from falling, his eyes drew naturally down to her lips as she whispered, “Thanks for the save.”

His mind went blank as he catalogued all the places they were pressed together, intoxicated by her closeness. He might have grunted in response, raising his eyes to hers, watching her own gaze flicker to the bed behind them, and he drew her closer still in response, uncaring if she could feel the growing physical evidence of his desire for her. He realized, dimly, he was lowering his face to hers, studying her eyes, searching for a sign there.

It came when her chin tilted up and her eyes fluttered closed, and with a nervous exhale, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, reveling in the softness he found there, the gentle pressure as she leaned into the kiss.

And then she came alive against him, and they sank to the ground together.

* * *

“What the hell is this?”

“What?”

“I said, what the hell is this?” Hardy raised his voice, and Ellie sighed, turning off the hair dryer.

Re-belting her dressing gown she returned to the bedroom to see what he was talking about and found him standing by the desk, towel still wrapped around his hips as he glared down at the desktop.

“Oh,” she winced, wondering how she’d forgotten. “That.”

“Yes, _that_,” he crossed his arms, giving her a stern look. “What is it?”

Biting her lip Ellie stared down at the items, trying to come up with anything but a smartass answer; the towel low around his hips made it difficult to focus. “They’re… ears.”

“Ears?”

She nodded, lifting the one on the right carefully and settling it over her head. “Mickey ears – they’re for newlyweds. Well, I suppose you don’t have to be just married to wear them, or even really married at all, but… I thought it was cute.”

Adjusting the strap under her chin Ellie turned to the mirror above the desk, smiling softly at her reflection. The Ears were entirely white, embroidered to look like lace and covered in rhinestones, with a tiny tiara perched between the actual rounded ears and a delicate veil trailing down the back. They were part of a set, matching the Ears still on the desk, intended for Joe. Those were decorated like a tux, complete with top hat and tails, and a tiny satin rosette on the lapel. Together they were absolutely precious, and when they’d been described when she was booking and mentioned ‘honeymoon’, she’d been unable to resist.

“Shame they won’t see the light of day,” she sighed, easing it off her head. “Wonder if I can get them returned…” She trailed her fingers over the groom’s Ears, wistful. Not for Joe, no, that faded with every hour she put between herself and that ill-fated ceremony, but for the things she had planned- the _life _she had planned for herself.

_But if I get lucky, maybe I won’t have to start over from scratch._

* * *

“So…” Ellie took a big bite of her Mickey-shaped pretzel, looking at anything but Hardy, “are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” He had his hands in his pockets, skulking along beside her, though thankfully he’d managed to leave his dark and brooding scowl in the room. “Aren’t you going to go on any rides?”

She took another bite, nodding. “You wanted to start at the back,” she reminded him. “Said it’d be less crowded. That’s where we’re going.”

Hardy snorted. “I think you’re eating your way there.”

“Oi!” She whacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. “Excuse you. D’you know how hard I’ve been dieting for that bloody wedding? I deserve some good food! D’you think I chose France for my honeymoon for the _sights_? The _art_? Fuck no, it was for the _carbs_.”

His gaze flickered over her, brow furrowing. “Dieting?” he asked, perplexed, “Whatever for?”

Ellie stopped dead to stare at him. And then in one slick move she rocked up on her toes, reaching behind his head to pull him down, kissing him deeply. He made a noise, possibly a yelp, before leaning into the kiss, and they only broke apart when wolf whistles and cheers filtered through the haze.

“Sorry,” Ellie said bashfully to their impromptu audience. “_Excusez-moi_.”

“This is a children’s park,” an older gentleman grumbled, only to be poked by the woman next to him.

“Look at their hats,” she scolded, “they’re clearly on their honeymoon. Don’t you remember when we were that way?”

A quickly exchanged glance had them slipping away, as they came around a bend, leaving behind _Discoveryland_ in favor of _Fantasyland_.

“Talk about what?”

“What?”

Hardy sighed, looking for all the world like the most miserable person at the happiest place on Earth. “You thought we should talk about something?”

She led him straight to the line for the _Small World_ ride, waiting until they caught up to the end of the line to face him. “I just… I mean, should we be talking about…” she gestured between them, giving him a meaningful look. “What are we doing?”

His face momentarily pinched, and he glanced behind her at the long line he was now trapped. “We…” He sighed. “We’re on vacation. Let’s… let’s enjoy the moment, and see what happens when we get back to England. No pressure, no expectations, just… have fun?”

“You say _fun_ like it’s a dirty word,” Ellie teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “Lighten up, would you? Release your inner child. Did you even _have_ an inner child?”

He had to think about that for a moment. “I suppose… reading comic books and such. Star Wars. To be fair, I was an anxious, nerdy lad from Paisley; I spent most of my time focusing on getting the hell out of there.”

Her expression softened, and she patted his arm. “I’m sorry.” Looking down at the last bit of pretzel, she hesitated before offering it to him. “Want a bite?”

With a blink and a shrug he broke it in half, popping it into his mouth. “_How_ much did you pay for this?” he asked once he’d swallowed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, shut up.”

“And why are we waiting for this God-forsaken ride? How many times do we have to hear this bloody song?”

Ellie grinned, dusting her hands of any lingering pretzel salt on her shorts. “Because it’s true – and if it _wasn’t_ such a small world, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

He gazed down at her, and she would’ve sworn under oath at seeing affection there.

“Fair enough.”

* * *

They were just getting in line for the Indiana Jones ride when his mobile rang.

“It’s my Chief,” Hardy said, brow furrowing as he stared at the screen. “I’ve got to…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be over here,” she waved him off, finding a free bit of bench to settle onto, leaning back and soaking in the sun. It was a moderate day, the perfect temperature, and it was nice to feel the warmth.

“Hi there.”

Ellie opened her eyes, assessing the man now sitting next to her. A few inches under six feet he was well built, with nice hair and a better smile. Never mind also _incredibly _handsome. “Hello.”

When he didn’t say anything further, just continued to stare at her, she said, ”Uh… something I can help you with?”

“Here alone?”

_Seriously? Do you not see the Ears?_ “No.” Glancing around she spotted Hardy a few feet away, watching her, and she smiled at seeing him. Without another word to the man she strode over to him, sticking her hands in her pockets. “All good?”

“Eh.” Hardy was still looking over her head.

_Is he jealous?_

“What happened?” she prompted, tugging him towards the ride entrance. “Tell me.”

Finally refocusing on her, he slid his mobile back into his pocket and followed her along the path. “I’m… getting transferred.”

“Oh? D’you know where?”

“No, they’re still working on that, but it seems like the best solution. It’s fine with me, Sandbrook was just a… just a place, but now I’ve got to move.”

They reached the back of the line, and she turned to him, throwing her arms around him in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Hardy sighed. “We’ll see where I land. But I _hate_ moving. Packing. Finding a new place.”

“Oh, I understand,” Ellie smiled reassuringly. “I’ve got the same thing when I go back, I suppose. I’d just bought a house- thankfully it’s just in my name, but I can’t afford to keep it now. Unless I get a roommate, and I dunno about that.”

He nodded. “Oh, living alone’s _much_ better, I think. Everything’s where you left it, never reach for something and find someone’s left it empty on the shelf. Peace and quiet.”

“You _would_ love it,” she laughed. “Not me, I’d rather have people around. Usually. There’s always exceptions.”

A thoughtful look flashed across his face. “I suppose there are.”

The implication in his unusually soft tone made Ellie flush, and she absentmindedly adjusted the veil behind her to have something to do with her hands.

“Let me.” He turned her by the shoulders before fluffing the fabric and her hair. “Better.”

“Thanks.” Turning back to face him, she gave him a half-smile he returned before leaning forward.

She was so unused to him initiating, well, _anything_, that she froze, uncertain of what was happening. He paused inches away from her mouth, close enough she could feel his breath, and finally her brain kicked back into gear. Rising up on her tiptoes she pressed their mouths together, smiling against his lips. Despite the newness of whatever this was, it felt familiar, as if she’d been kissing him for years instead of days.

“Get a room,” an irritated voice broke through the fog, “or at least move up! For cryin’ out loud, there are _children_ here.”

“Oh, piss off,” Hardy broke their kiss to growl, guiding Ellie the ten feet up the path to people ahead of them in line. “Don’t you see the Ears?”

The other man snorted, crossing his arms. “I _see_ two people taking up space in line when they’d clearly rather be in a bed. I’m here with my kids, at a _kid’s amusement park_, and I’ve got to wait so fucking much longer because _you_ people, without children, think you’ve got a right to be here taking up space!”

“Right, that’s enough,” the woman with him snapped, grabbing her husband’s arm. “Leave them alone, they’re just trying to enjoy themselves, same as us. C’mon, there’s a show starting in ten minutes I wanted to go to anyway. You can ride this later.”

And they left, the woman manhandling her husband out of line, and Ellie watched them go with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure.

Once they were out of sight she glanced at Hardy, who looked as amused as she felt.

“Sensitive soul, eh? He seemed thick-skinned.”

Ellie tilted her head, trying to figure out why those words sounded familiar – then gasped. “Alec Hardy! Did you make a _Disney_ pun?!”

He just shrugged, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smug smile. “Of course not,” he waved a hand dismissively, and while he could press his lips into a straight line, he couldn’t stop the mad twinkle in his eye.

“You _did_!”

“No, I didn’t,” Hardy said firmly, though his tone didn’t fit his expression. “Now, _let it go._”

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her face in his chest, howling with laughter.

And when they returned to their room that night, she showed him _just_ how grateful she was for him leaning into the portion of the trip he’d initially complained about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 will be up on Sunday.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	10. Day 9, Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lazy day is best spent by the pool.

** _Monday_ **

Ellie sighed, sinking lower in her lounger. After they’d finally dragged themselves out of bed and down to breakfast they’d agreed to a lazy morning by the pool, and so far, she was extremely pleased with the decision. It was an indoor pool, relatively unremarkable, but they had it to themselves and that was enough.

Light spa music played through the speakers, sunlight poured in from the windows behind them, and she was perfectly content to drift on the padded chair, Hardy on the one next to her doing a crossword. Opening one eye she turned her head to peer at him, smiling at the adorable expression of absolute concentration on his face as he carefully inked in an answer.

“Need any help?”

He shook his head before glancing over at her, expression softening. Turning back to his paper he ran one finger down the page, humming for a moment before asking, “Four letter word, ‘song such as ‘Nessun dorma’.”

“Aria.”

“What?” Pen at the ready he raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”

“It’s from a Puccini opera,” she said smugly, rolling onto her side to face him. “A boyfriend and I- not Joe, the bloke before him- went and spent a weekend in London once and he took me to the opera.”

Hardy nodded, mouth tightening slightly. _Definitely jealous._ “How was it?”

“Beautiful.” Her lips curled up. “Also terribly boring. Couldn’t understand a word they said- well, sang. But it was… an experience. One I’m glad to have had but not particularly eager to repeat. A bit posh for me, really.”

His tension eased, and he consulted his clue list again. “How about… four letters, ‘perfect place, if you don’t mind the serpent’. What the fuck?”

“Eden,” she laughed. “Supposed to be perfect, until a snake convinced Eve to eat from the forbidden tree?”

“‘Convinced’,” he repeated, snorting. “Since it _was_ Eden, I hardly doubt the woman was trying to watch her figure; probably ate everything in sight. Don’t deny it, I saw you at the buffet this morning.”

Ellie huffed, swinging her legs around and sitting up to face him. “This is fun, commentary aside. Keep going.”

“Fine.” It took him a minute. “Here’s one- Five letters, ‘right wrongs’.”

“Hardy.”

“Yes?”

She laughed, pushing up off her lounger and settling against him on his. “Righter of wrongs,” Ellie repeated. “Hardy. At least, in my experience.” Patting his bare knee, she watched in amusement as his face ran the gamut of shocked to pleased to bashful.

“I do what I can,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears turning red. “Nothing to fuss over.”

Turning her head she leaned in to kiss him softly, smiling against his lips. “Agree to disagree. You’ve rescued me a few times, and not just on this trip.”

Hardy lowered the puzzle to his lap, moving a few curls away from her face, fingers lingering against the strands. “And you, me,” he murmured, eyes impossibly soft and earnest. “And not just on this trip. I’m so glad I fou- I ran into you.”

“I’m glad I found you too.”

They kissed again, deeper this time, and her heart was pounding by the time they came up for air. Her skin tingled pleasantly, and she was half-drunk on the taste of him.

“What d’you say to a kip before lunch?” she asked breathlessly, shivering when his fingertips trailed over her skin.

His eyes never left hers, but the corner of his mouth curled upward.

They didn’t make lunch.

* * *

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Ellie stopped dead in the middle of the walkway, heedless of the swarms of people around them. “You did _not_ just say what I think you said.”

Hardy sighed, placing his palm on the small of her back and guiding her gently forward into walking again. “Don’t be like that.”

“But that- that’s impossible! _Especially_ at your age!”

“What d’you mean, _my_ age? _You_ are my age!”

“Exactly!”

He rolled his eyes. “Why’re you taking this so personally? So I haven’t seen a movie-”

“It’s a trilogy-”

“Okay, I haven’t seen _three _movies. I’m hardly the only person in the world.”

Ellie tugged him to a stop and turned to the person walking next to them. “Excuse me, sir?”

The man stopped, looking startled, his wife and children pausing as well. “Yes?”

“Has anyone in your family- circle of friends- anyone you’ve ever met- _not_ seen the original Star Wars trilogy?”

He just laughed, shaking his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“See,” Ellie turned back to Hardy smugly.

“Oh, come on,” he shook his head as they resumed their strolling tour of the Village, “my father wasn’t going to waste the little disposable income we had on- on going to the pictures. And I never had any interest as an adult. I could watch Star Trek on telly. That was enough.”

She huffed. “Fine. However, I bet we can rent it at the hotel – we can watch one tonight. No arguments.”

His expression pinched. “No. Miller, please- I _don’t want to_.” A hint of something deeper than frustration entered his tone, and she realized that it was a sensitive subject, that she didn’t have the full story.

“Okay,” Ellie agreed softly, “if you feel that strongly.”

Hardy gave her a suspicious glare, and she tried to return it with a reassuring smile, hoping he could sense it was genuine. “Thanks,” he grumbled.

He shifted closer to her, and they walked a few meters with their knuckles bumping against each other before she got the picture. Heart leaping, suddenly shy, she twisted her hand so the next time they brushed their palms met, and she was pleased when he laced their fingers together.

They didn’t look at each other, continued exploring the shops of the marketplace, but their hands never let go and the warmth in her chest never faded.

_This is what real happiness is._

* * *

Ringing slowly filtered through the fog, somewhat bursting the hazy, pleasurable cocoon Ellie was wrapped in.

“Wha’s that?” she mumbled, struggling to open her eyes. “Hear it?”

Hardy grunted, not lifting his head from the sure-to-be-impressive love bite he was working on at her collarbone.

“I think it’s a phone.”

He continued to ignore her, only shifting to the other side of her neck.

“Hardy.” She ran her fingers through his hair, using a gentle touch to tug his head up. “Need to answer it.”

“They’ll go away,” he dismissed, propping himself up enough to reach her mouth for a kiss. “We’re busy.”

Ellie giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close as they continued to kiss. “It’s ringing again,” she mumbled against his lips, “you should answer it.” Incongruently, she hooked her knee higher on his hip.

He slowly pulled himself away, stealing kisses until he had to reach for the mobile. “It’s you,” he barely glanced at the screen, thrusting it into her hands and sliding back down her body to align his mouth with her throat. “Do what you want.”

The caller ID read _Lucy_, and she reluctantly answered. “What?”

“Well hello to you too,” her sister snarked, “hope I’m not interrupting.”

That put Ellie on alert, automatically tensing to the point where Hardy sat up and mouthed _ok?_

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you really take your uni boyfriend on this trip with you?”

_Shit._ “Where’s this coming from?”

“So it’s true.”

Ellie sat up, putting her back to the headboard. Hardy, thankfully, moved as well, sliding next to her and laying his hand flat, palm up, on the mattress between them; she didn’t hesitate to take it, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. “I ran into a friend from uni in London and asked them to come with me. Where’d you hear this anyway?” The obvious and only possible source was Joe’s call, and she wondered if her sister was dumb enough to admit she was still talking to him after her moratorium on it.

“A mutual friend,” Lucy said vaguely, proving she was smarter than she sometimes seemed to be. “You’re not denying it.”

“I had already paid for two, and found a willing plus one,” she shrugged, grip tightening on Hardy’s hand. “It’s nice, been catching up on old times. We lost touch after uni because I didn’t have his details; he says he left them for me but I never got them.” She leaned closer to Hardy, tilting the phone so he could hear as well.

The silence on the other end of the line was as good as a confession to Ellie, and she was both annoyed and pleased to be right.

“Still there?”

“Well _I_ don’t know anything about that,” Lucy said stiffly, and Ellie had to fight back a laugh when Hardy rolled his eyes. “But _really_, taking up with an ex so quickly? Can you say ‘rebound’?”

Her jaw clenched, the question hitting too close to her secret worries. “He’s not an _ex,_ we didn’t date in uni,” countered, setting the record straight even as she wondered why everyone thought they had. _You never even met him except for when he gave you the letter, what’s this based on?_ “And we’re _friends_, travelling together. Nothing’s going on between us.”

Hardy tensed next to her, and she rubbed her thumb against his, hoping he knew it was just a lie. _Not that I know what _is_ going on between us._

“Bullshit. You ought to be ashamed of yourself; your fiancé is-”

“Now _he_,” Ellie cut her off, ”_is_ an ex. I’ve no idea why you refuse to see that, but it is _absolutely_ over with Joe. Out of the realm of possibility. And I’m not having this conversation again, understand? The next time you, or Mum or Dad, say _anything_ about him, I am hanging up. You hear me?”

Whispers on the other end made her sigh, and it wasn’t until Hardy winced that she realized she had his hand in a death vise. Forcibly relaxing her grip she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, some of her tension seeping out when he kissed her forehead and leaned his head on hers.

_For as bony as he is, he’s wonderfully comfortable._

“Hello?” she prompted after a solid minute of semi-silence. “You there?”

“We just don’t want you to make any rash decisions that you’ll regret,” Lucy bit out. “You have to consider what you want your future to look like. We love you, El, and want you to be happy.”

“I appreciate that. Listen, I’ve got to go, but I’ll be home Sunday afternoon and we can talk then if need be.”

Both Lucy and Hardy said, “What?” at the same time, and she had to pinch him to remind him to be quiet. “I thought you’d be home Wednesday?” her sister continued.

Ellie shrugged despite knowing Lucy couldn’t see it. “I need a little more time. I’m going to stay in London for a few days, do some sightseeing there.”

“If you must… have a good night.”

Not bothering to respond Ellie simply ended the call, letting her mobile drop to her lap and leaning her head back, groaning.

“Since when are you staying on in London?” Hardy asked, and she rolled her head to the side to look at him.

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Since I said it. I just couldn’t face the idea of going back on Wednesday. I’ve got those days off anyway, though they were supposed to be used for moving. But instead… instead, I’m going to go around and see all the art and history _I_ want to, without worrying about boring anyone.”

He nodded slowly, a distant gaze in his eye for a moment. “On your own?”

Not bothering to even consider the idea, she rolled over to straddle his lap. “Why, you don’t want to go?”

“Not if I’m not wanted.” His hands settled on her hips, providing her stability without clinging to her.

Ellie searched his eyes, saw the longing and hesitation there, and leaned forward to kiss him, bracing herself against the headboard behind him. “You are _definitely_ wanted,” she whispered against his mouth, rolling her hips against him. “I haven’t- I can’t, yet, think too hard about the future, but I won’t lose you again. Whatever it looks like, I want you in it.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Good enough for me,” he murmured, kissing her again before sliding his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and lifting. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I know.”

And she proceeded to show him just how wanted he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11 will be up Wednesday the 27th!


	11. Day 10 (Tuesday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in Hollywood Studios leads to realizations.

“Last full day in France,” Hardy noted as they made their way over to the Studios Park. “It’s gone fast.”

Ellie hummed in agreement, unable and unwilling to fight back her happiness. The sun was shining, birds were chirping. It was an overall beautiful day, made brighter by the man beside her, hand holding hers. For all his grumbling and complaining he’d been an excellent sport, going along with all of her ideas and plans. It meant the world to her how he’d embraced it all, and she told him that.

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “Anything to make you happy.”

“_You_ make me happy.” It was true; she felt lighter than she had in years, away from her family. “You make me feel like _me_ again. Like I was in school. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t until we were- until I saw you again.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he agreed as they scanned their tickets and entered the park, “more than I knew.”

They crossed the courtyard into the hangar-sized building designed like a movie studio, past the shops and quick-service dining areas into a second courtyard. The design was much more reminiscent of Hollywood, and almost didn’t feel like a Disney park, which she hoped Hardy would appreciate.

“What d’you want to do first?” he asked as they stood at the crossroads.

“Um…” Ellie pulled out her mobile and opened the parks app, using it to see wait times. _I love this thing._ “You mentioned starting at the back- the wait for Rock’n’ Roll Coaster isn’t too bad at the moment.”

He nodded and they started in that direction, Ellie _ooh_ing and _aah_ing over everything they saw.

Joining the line they stood opposite each other, leaning back on the railing while waiting to move. “What’s your plan when you get home?” Hardy asked quietly, crossing his arms.

“Uh…” Ellie licked her lips, more focused on the picture he made. Dressed in shorts and a tee, wearing the groom ears, he looked _good_, like something out of a magazine. If anyone had tried to tell her she’d see him looking that way, and more importantly _liking_ the visual, she would’ve called them crazy. Now, she just wanted to jump him. “Work. Figure out what to do with the house I bought- maybe find a roommate if I can’t find a flat and a buyer. I certainly _can’t_ move back home, and more importantly, I _won’t_.”

“Were you living at home before you bought the house?”

The line moved then and she waited until they’d repositioned ten feet up the corridor to answer. “No. Well, briefly- we were sharing a flat, but closing on the house got delayed so we were staying with my parents for the last two months while that all got sorted. Everything’s been moved in but not set up, so there’s plenty of work there, though if I can find a flat and a buyer quickly I may not have too much trouble moving. It’s just a mess.”

He nodded in understanding. “Once I’m back I’ll have to pack quickly and find somewhere soon as I have my new post. I don’t have all that much, but it’s still a hassle.”

“D’you have any idea where they might send you?”

“No,” Hardy sighed, shifting, “could be anywhere in England. I’m not strictly opposed to somewhere far from Sandbrook, less chance of knowing anyone there or them having heard about it all, but… och, I don’t know.”

“Well, if you end up in the southwest, let me know. I know of someone in need of a roommate,” she joked, before flushing at the implication. “I mean…”

His face contorted into an odd sort of grimace, and he rubbed at the back of his neck; both sure signs he was uncomfortable.

“What?”

They moved again, and this time, he stood straight up with his arms tightly folded against his chest. “What happens after this?”

“Tower of Terror?” she tried, but his expression didn’t change. “I… don’t know. Why?”

“You said ‘let me know’. That implies you don’t… expect us to keep in touch.”

“Of _course_ I want to keep in touch!”

Dirty looks from the people in front of and behind them said her tone was a bit louder than intended.

“Yes, I expect us to keep in touch.” Lowering her voice, she tried to picture returning to life without him. “I’d… I think I’d like to do more than just ‘keep in touch’. Maybe.” She gave him a small smile.

Slowly, his shoulders unhunched, just a bit. “So would I.”

Maybe, just maybe, that meant everything would be alright.

* * *

“You alright?” Ellie fought back laughter as she led Hardy out into the sun.

“Aye,” he rasped, though the death grip he had on her hand and the stiff way he was walking suggested otherwise. “What the _fuck_ was that?”

Practically biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, she managed, “Tower of Terror. Did it live up to the name?”

It was a rhetorical question; buttoned-up, restrained, unflappable Hardy had spent the entirety of the ride from the first drop shouting obscenities and clutching Ellie’s hand so tightly it was starting to tingle. She’d never seen him so shaken, so _pale_, and while she was sympathetic, it was also _hilarious_.

“Stop laughing,” he grunted, as she led him to a convenient bench not far from the ride’s exit. “Not funny.”

“You’re not going to be sick, are you?”

He shook his head and they settled down, Hardy closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “Let’s… let’s go for something milder,” he requested as she laid her head on his shoulder, hoping to offer comfort.

“When you’re ready,” she agreed easily. “There’s an action and stunt show soon back near the Coaster, how’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

“Then we can do the Studio Tram Tour, should be easy, then lunch?” She rubbed his back.

After several minutes he lifted his head, and she met his eye with a sympathetic smile that faded as he stared at her, eyes searching hers.

“What?”

Hardy leaned forward, kissing her softly, which she was happy to return.

“What was that for?” she murmured when they finally pulled apart, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I- I-” He had an intense expression on his face, eyes shining, and her breath caught as she realized what he might be trying to say.

She just smiled, the hand on his back resuming it’s circuit as she waited in silence.

The moment eventually passed, the energy shifting, though a current of electricity remained as they stared at each other. When he finally spoke, it was to change the subject, though a hint of wistfulness was present in his tone.

“When’s that show?”

Ellie checked her watch before standing up. “Five minutes.”

“Right.”

She offered him a hand, helping him to his feet, and they started back towards the theater. To her surprise he let go of her hand, though her heart warmed a moment later when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Doing the same, she gave him a silly smile and led the way, humming to herself.

_It really can be that simple, sometimes._

* * *

For dinner they had a reservation at _King Ludwig’s Castle_, a restaurant in the Village outside the parks. While it wasn’t quite the Eiffel Tower, Ellie still dressed up, given it was their last night.

Standing in the bathroom finishing her makeup she was full of nerves. Though they’d taken every meal together since they’d left London she was on edge, anxious; this felt like a date, a proper one, particularly in light of his almost-confession that morning.

_What am I doing?_ Ellie stared at her reflection, trying to sift through the maelstrom of emotions inside her. _This trip has been brilliant, better than I’d imagined even before… everything, but what happens when we go back to real life? Is this just lightning in a bottle? Can we make it work? Does he want to?_

“El?” He rapped on the door. “We’ll be late soon. Alright?”

“Yeah!”

Pushing down her questions she finished her makeup, opening the door to find him standing right there, hand up as if to knock again.

“Hi,” he said, lowering his hand slowly, “ready?”

Not trusting her voice she merely nodded, grabbing her wrap. When he offered she allowed him to drape it across her shoulders, taking his proffered elbow and letting him lead the way.

It wasn’t far, a quick walk had them there soon enough, and he waited until they were seated and left with menus to say, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, why d’you assume something’s wrong?” she tittered nervously, knowing immediately her response had basically confirmed it. “I’m just… in my own head,” she shrugged, repositioning the place setting in front of her. “I’m fine, really.”

Crossing his arms he leaned forward on the table, and when she peeked up at him, those expressive brown eyes were focused solely on her.

_Damn._ “You must never have to ask questions in the interrogation room,” she joked, “just have to _look_ at someone and they probably start talking.”

“Miller. I’m not asking the world of you. Just the truth.”

It wasn’t until he used her last name that she realized all through the trip she’d been _Ellie_ instead. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she cast her eyes around the restaurant and idly noted the adorable castle-like décor. _You’re stalling._ “I don’t want this to be a rebound.” Every time she thought about the situation, that was one thing that stayed constant. “I don’t know what that means, I don’t know what happens when we go home, I know… _nothing_, and you know how I hate that, but what I do know is... I don’t want to go another eight years without seeing you. I don’t want to ruin this, whatever _this_ is. I don’t want to hurt you, or be hurt.” Reluctantly she met his eye, only to see understanding and sympathy shining back at her. “I want to be happy. And I think that includes you.”

The hope and optimism radiating off of Hardy was palpable, his mouth opening to reply, to hopefully say he felt the same, but was stopped by-

“Bonsoir, madame et monsieur, bienvenue a King Ludwig’s. My name is Diana, I am your waitress this evening. May I start you with some drinks?”

_Are you _fucking _kidding me? Can’t you see we’re having a moment here?!_

“Bottle of red,” Hardy said brusquely, never taking his eyes off of Ellie. “We’d like to see the list.”

“Bien sur, just a moment, thank you.”

Ellie huffed as soon as she was gone, rolling her eyes slightly, though she smiled when he let out a soft laugh.

“Ellie.” He tentatively reached across the table, and she didn’t hesitate to rest her palms in his. “I want the same thing. Regardless of where I end up, we can make it work. Given… recent events, it may not even be a bad thing if we’re some distance apart.”

She nodded, squeezing his hands. “Agreed. As amazing as this all has been… we haven’t seen each other in _years_. Doing a long-distance relationship, talking… it’s probably the best place to start. Take it slow, and build a solid foundation.”

“Precisely. In a year we can see where we stand and go from there, but… this- _us_\- is too important to fuck up.”

“We have the rest of our lives,” she said softly, realizing the weight and truth of the words, soul unclenching when he smiled.

“That we do.”

They leaned across the table at the same time, a chaste kiss given their location, but with enough heat to promise what was to come.

She only realized music was playing softly when the song changed, and she had to laugh as she recognized it, fitting for a romantic dinner at Disney.

_So this is love, Mmm mmm mmm, So this love, So this is what makes life divine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The next (and final!) chapter will be up on Sunday.


	12. Day 11 (Wednesday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.
> 
> As they start to make their way back to London and considering what will come, Alec receives his new assignment - which could dramatically change the future they've just started planning.

Ellie drifted awake to lips on her skin, soft kisses pressed along her spine. Bleary eyes flickered open to find Hardy next to her, lit from behind by the sunshine streaming through the open curtains and looking positively heavenly.

“Hi,” she rasped, turning on her side to face him, reaching out to brush her fingertips along his jawline just to be sure he was real. “How’s it going?”

He chuckled, a deep rumbling in his chest she felt in her bones, pressed together as they were. “I’m good.” Dipping his head, he bussed a kiss over her lips. “Better than I’ve been in a long time. You?”

“Same.” They kissed again, longer this time, and she sighed against his mouth. “I’m really, really good.”

And yet, for as happy and content and at peace as she was, he was able to make it even better.

Twice.

* * *

“Ugh, I don’t wanna go home,” Ellie whined, zippering her suitcase shut. “I’m not ready.”

Hardy rolled his eyes, closing the last drawer as he verified they had collected everything. “Aren’t you going to stay in London a few extra days?” he reminded her. “Not quite the same.”

“Yeah,” she reluctantly agreed, before frowning. “Hey.”

“What?”

Ellie bit her lip, watching him check under the bed for any errant items. “You mean ‘we’, right?”

“What?”

“_We_ are staying in London a few extra days?”

He set his hands on his hips, watching her carefully. “Is that what you want?”

“Absolutely,” she didn’t hesitate, unable to picture sightseeing without him. “I’ll even let you choose the itinerary.” His expression didn’t change, and she faltered. “I mean, if you want to- don’t let me pressure you.”

Hardy sighed. “It’s not _you_ pressuring _me_ I’m concerned with,” he said bluntly. “If you need some time on your own- it would probably be good for you anyway-”

“I don’t _want _time alone,” she cut him off. “I want time with _you_.” Her gaze dropped to the suitcase on the bed in front of her, and she idly double-checked the zippers. “I keep thinking about how differently the last eight years might’ve gone if we’d kept in touch.”

She only looked up when he lifted her chin, and she stared into those comforting brown eyes, hope beating a tattoo in her chest.

“Ellie,” he murmured her name like a prayer, “don’t. What we have is the here and now- if you spend all your time thinking about what could have happened in the past, you miss what _is_ happening in the present. We’re here, together, and we’re free to do as we please. If you want to spend a few days playing tourist in London, we can do that. I’ll do anything you want, as long as it’s with you. Even if it’s not, really.”

“How can you say that?” she asked, putting a finger across his lips when he went to respond. “That’s not what I- that didn’t come out right. What I _mean_ is, how can _you_, grump of the party, serial sulker perennially exhausted by everyone and everything, say such beautiful words to me? How are you real?”

He shrugged, lips curling up into an amused smirk. “You inspire me.” He made a show of checking his watch. “C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

“But-”

He had his suitcase already off the bed and halfway into the hall before her brain rebooted, and grabbing her own and her purse, she hurried after him.

“Hardy, wait!”

* * *

“So, do you have a hotel for London?” Hardy asked once they were seated on the train, stretching his legs out in front of him.

She gave him a guilty smile, and he huffed a laugh.

“Right.”

“Hang on, let me…” Pulling out her mobile she started tapping away, and he took the opportunity to watch her. It was amazing how much she’d changed in a week and a half away, how much more she resembled the Ellie he’d known in uni. The weight appeared to be gone from her shoulders, though deep down he knew her troubles were far from over, based on how her conversations with her family had gone. But she smiled easier now than she had the first few days, didn’t get so lost in her thoughts.

He liked to think he’d helped ease her worries, even if it was only a temporary respite. She could never know how she’d helped him at his worst, after his mother’s passing, how she had kept him going. If he could offer even a modicum of comfort in return, he’d do it- even if it meant going on amusement park rides and wearing a silly hat and whispering dirty jokes in her ear.

He’d learned long ago that he’d put himself through anything for her, even when- _especially _when- she didn’t have the faintest idea. It had been reassuring to know that hadn’t changed with time.

_How is it possible to be so in love with someone?_

The fact that he was in love with her was old news; he’d suspected as much most of the time they were in uni, and knew for sure the morning after graduation, the first time he’d woken up next to her. It had been a miracle, beyond his wildest dreams, a once-in-a-lifetime chance – or so he’d thought.

In the ensuing years he’d managed to convince himself that it wasn’t real, that he was only remembering what he wanted to.

Five minutes with her, falling back into their familiar bantering patterns as easily as an old, favorite jumper, had proven that it hadn’t been all in his head.

If anything, it proved he’d underestimated it.

_I could happily wake up next to her for the rest of my life._

It hadn’t been a lie, when he told her how much he preferred living alone – he and Tess had quasi-lived together, neither willing to give up their flat in favor of alternating where they spent their nights, but he could only take two or three in a row before needing space, room to breathe and nothing to hear; no trashy reality tellys shows she loved, no overhearing arguments with her sister, no office gossip.

Not once had he felt a need to get distance from Ellie.

_That says it all, doesn’t it?_

For a self-proclaimed hater of nearly all people, or at least adults, one who often went out of his way to avoid people he knew, or might know, or even just looked like they wanted to _chat_, he could talk to Ellie for hours, listen to her, just _be_ with her.

_If that’s not love, I don’t know what is._

She was his favorite person in the world.

_It doesn’t matter how long it takes, _he realized, thinking of all the heartache that awaited her in Broadchurch. _When she’s ready, I’ll be there, and I’ll be hers._

He smiled.

_I can wait as long as she needs._

* * *

After too damn many hours stuck on a train, first from Chessy to Paris then the Eurostar back to St Pancras, Ellie was relieved to step onto the platform and hear English over the speakers again.

“Home,” she sighed, “or near enough.”

“Yeah- keep going,” Hardy grunted behind her, and she did as they made their way out onto the street. Compared to France’s bright sun and blue sky London was dark and dingy, overcast with a cool breeze.

They joined the queue for a black cab, and sooner than expected were on their way to the hotel she’d found. Check in was a breeze, and they bounced down onto the mattress together laughing before relaxing back into the covers.

“This was a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself,” she said cheekily, rolling onto her side to face him.

“Agreed.” Hardy shifted as well but didn’t stop on his side, instead continuing until he was propped above her, their legs intertwined. “You’re full of them.”

The kiss was only just starting to morph into more when chirping came from his trousers pocket.

“I think that’s you,” Ellie said between kisses, skating her fingertips along his spine. “You should answer it.”

“Busy.” He hooked an elbow under her knee.

“Could be your assignment.”

Hardy groaned at that, tearing himself away to dig it out of his pocket. “If it’s not…” he trailed off, sighing as he stared at the screen. “It is. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where could I?” she asked rhetorically as he went out into the hall, already answering it. “Right.”

Leaping off the bed she hustled to the bathroom, trying to clean up quickly after a long day of traveling. If she had her way, with no evidence to suggest she wouldn’t, they would stay in bed and order takeaway.

_I’d give just about anything not to have to go back to real life,_ she thought, scrubbing her face. _I don’t want to deal with what’s waiting in Broadchurch – I just want to be here, with him. Happy._

She wasn’t looking forward to the coming months, as she untangled her life from Joe’s. The only thing that made the idea bearable was knowing she didn’t have to do it alone; that she would have Hardy’s support emotionally, even if not practically. There would be long talks with her family, setting the issue to rest with them once and for all.

_If they don’t accept that it’s over and I want nothing to do with Joe, things will have to change. Maybe, once Hardy’s settled, I can put in a request for transfer to be nearer to him._

Fluffing her hair and refreshing her chapstick, she returned to the bedroom and settled on the bed just as the door opened.

“Well?” she demanded, straightening up and watching him walk in, far from comforted by the vaguely stunned expression on his face. “Where are you moving?”

He put his mobile on the desk before leaning back against it, sticking his hands in his pockets.

_Why does he look scared?_

“I want you to know,” he started slowly, “that I wasn’t given a choice other than to accept or reject the position. And even that wasn’t much of a choice, more of a technicality that I had to agree to it. I didn’t ask for this, didn’t even know it was possible, and have no idea what this means.”

“You’re worrying me,” Ellie watched him anxiously, “and I don’t like how that sounds. What is it? Oh, God, they can’t send you to bloody Ireland or something, can they? Or back to Scotland? Don’t tell me- it’s Berwick-upon-Tweed.” Technically the northern-most point in England, it was a little village on the Eastern coast at the border between Scotland and England. “Well?”

Hardy huffed out a laugh, though after a week of genuine amusement it was a pale imitation. “No, not there- about as far from there as you can get.”

“Cornwall?” She tilted her head. “Penzance?”

“What? No, not literally- or at least, not that literally.” He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling the strands, and it took effort for her to keep focused on the conversation at hand and ignore the lingering heat.

“Just tell me,” Ellie said, rising from the bed to wrap her arms around his waist, concerned when he merely tensed. “Whatever it is we’ll deal with it, yeah? Like a team. Please.”

Lips pressed into a thin line he nodded, meeting her gaze and holding. “Fine.” Exhaling deeply, he said the name, and the world shifted on its axis.

“Broadchurch. My new constabulary is in Broadchurch.”

“_What?!_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for joining me on this journey! I've enjoyed sharing this story with you, and hope you've enjoyed it as well.
> 
> I do anticipate a sequel at some point.
> 
> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 will be posted on Sunday October 27th


End file.
